


The Unspeakable Truth

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-05
Updated: 2009-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1933893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione finally gets her dream job, but who would have predicted it would take her back to the scene of her nightmares?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unspeakable Truth

**Author's Note:**

> **Challenge:** Written for the 2009 Hermione Big Bang.  
>  **Genre:** Drama, romance, hurt/comfort  
>  **Warnings:** Character death (not Hermione)  
> 

~

The Unspeakable Truth

~

In the end, Hermione had to credit the Burrow with her ultimate career choice. Looking back, it was because of the crowded little house’s lack of privacy that she’d made many of the decisions she had. At the time, however, its stifling atmosphere had only been an annoyance.

Ron had insisted they come here, and, against her better instincts, Hermione had acquiesced. Molly hadn’t seemed surprised to see them, and when Ron had mumbled something about ‘showing Hermione the newly repaired attic’, she had just smirked in a way that made Hermione quite uncomfortable.

“We repaired the floor, see?” Ron ushered her in, shutting the door.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I don’t think you invited me here to see the new floor, did you?”

He grinned, pulling her into his arms. “Not exactly, no,” he whispered. “I thought we could use a bit of privacy.”

“Good plan.” Hermione tilted her head up. “And what do we need privacy for?”

Ron was a decent kisser. Of course Hermione hadn’t kissed very many men yet. Viktor had kissed her cheek once, but had been too much of a gentleman to do more. She’d contemplated Seamus, but then a year of camping with Harry and Ron had sort of dimmed her interest in anyone but Ron.

They’d had sex a couple of times. As was her nature, Hermione had researched the topic so that the disappointing first time hadn’t come as too much of a surprise. Like anything, it appeared that practice was the key, and happily, Ron seemed to agree. They were well on the road to courtship. These days, however, the thought of joining the Weasley family was a bit intimidating, and some small part of Hermione kept reminding her that she had aspirations beyond marrying into the wizarding world’s most prolific family.

Ron deepened the kiss and she moaned as his hand cupped her breast. She straddled his thigh and a moment later found herself at arm’s length. Licking her lips, Hermione caught her breath and smiled up at Ron. “Why’d you stop?” she asked, looping her arms around his neck and arching closer.

Ron glanced nervously behind him. “I know we’re in the attic but I didn’t put up Silencing Charms!” he whispered.

“Put them up, then.” Hermione reached for her wand. “Or I’ll do it if you want.”

Shaking his head, Ron said, “I just... I don’t think we should be doing this here.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “We’re in the Burrow, Ron. There are bedrooms everywhere. Plus, I think your family’s all aware that we’re dating, aren’t they? Who’s going to be surprised if we disappear for a while?”

“Well, yeah, but still--” Ron shrugged. “I can’t do anything with Mum just downstairs. I thought I could but I can’t. Sorry.”

Tamping down her irritation, Hermione sighed and hugged him. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I understand. Let’s get back.”

As they walked hand in hand back downstairs to the kitchen, however, Hermione was ready to duck into a bathroom and finish the job herself. Why had Ron dragged her upstairs to ‘be alone’ if he didn’t want to shag? She sighed. Sometimes she didn’t understand men. They were supposed to _like_ sex, after all.

“There you are!” Molly said, smiling broadly at them. “Hermione, could you help me with the biscuits, dear? Ron, your father’s puttering about in his shed, would you remind him that the garden is being overrun with gnomes again?”

Ron dropped Hermione’s hand and, blushing, mumbled something about how much he hated de-gnoming before leaving the kitchen.

When he was gone, Molly handed Hermione a baking tray of biscuits. “Could you put those in the oven?”

“Of course.” Levitating the tray, Hermione placed it in the oven. “And thanks again for inviting me to dinner, Mrs. Weasley.”

Molly waved a hand. “Oh, you have a standing invitation, dear. You’re practically family.” Wiping her hands on a towel, Molly gestured towards a chair. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to have you over for a chat, woman to woman, for a while now.”

“Oh?” Hermione sat down. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Molly pulled up a chair and, waving her wand, set a Stirring Spell on several of the pans on the stove. “I just thought it was time we talked. Ronnie is very fond of you, I can tell.”

Hermione blushed. “And I’m fond of him,” she replied.

“I knew that.” Molly leaned close. “As one of the few Weasley women, I thought a talk would be in order, especially since your own mother is...well... How is she dear?”

“She and Dad are slowly remembering things.” Hermione sighed. “I think I did too good of a job in erasing their memories. They at least recognize me now. The Healers at St. Mungo’s tell me there’s hope that they will regain most of their memories.”

“That’s wonderful.” Molly flicked her wand at the oven, turning it off.

“Yes, it is.”

“The thing is,” Molly continued, “the fact that your mother is...indisposed makes me feel as if _I’m_ your mother.” She patted Hermione’s knee. “I’m sure you know the facts of life, but when you’re with a Weasley man, well, some of those rules don’t always apply.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione was beginning to get a bit nervous. Did Ron have some sort of deformity that she wasn’t aware of? If so, how had she missed it? She’d certainly seen him naked enough times...

“Well, they can be intimidating.” Molly smiled. “I remember when Arthur was courting me. He was very...insistent.” She blushed. “I was a good girl and my parents had told me that good girls always wait until marriage, so I was determined to hold out.” She gigged, and for a moment Hermione saw the young girl she would have been. “Anyway, I suppose I can admit it now. We, er, started before we got married, if you know what I mean.”

Hermione cringed. “Mrs. Weasley--”

“Now I’ve told you to call me Molly,” Molly chuckled. “And I know that young people today can’t bear the thought that their parents might have had sex, but trust me, this is important. Don’t let Ronnie’s sex drive scare you, dear. It’s a Weasley thing, and you’re a Gryffindor, I’m sure you can keep up.” She stood up. “And if not, there _are_ potions.”

“Oh, I think I’ll be fine,” Hermione said, voice firm. “I’ve managed to keep up with Ron so far.” She blanched as Molly spun to stare at her. “Um, I mean...”

Molly shook her head and held up her hand. “It’s all right, dear,” she said, although to Hermione she didn’t look fine, she looked a bit shocked. “I should have known. It is the modern day, after all. I’m sure you and he have, um, explored certain things--”

_This cannot be happening._ “Um...”

“Just promise me that you’re being careful.”

Hermione bit her lip and looked around for an escape. This was not a conversation she was prepared to have just then...or ever, really. “Er, yes...”

“You know, I am glad that you and Ronnie are grabbing life by the horns, though,” Molly continued, seemingly oblivious to Hermione’s discomfiture. “I think it’s so much easier to have babies when you’re young. So many women today want to have a career and then regret not having had children.”

Hermione went still. “I want a career,” she said, voice cool.

Molly paused. “Well, a temporary one, yes, I’m sure. I mean a _real_ career. You can’t have that and a family; it’s really too difficult.” She smiled. “But you’re a smart girl, you know that. When Ronnie told me that you hadn’t decided to apply for any further training after your NEWTs _I_ knew what it meant.” She winked. “Don’t worry, Ronnie will get around to it sooner or later.”

“I don’t know what you mean--”

“Anyway, I’ve probably said enough.” Molly patted Hermione’s hand. “Which contraceptive charm are you using, dear, if you don’t mind me asking? Some are better than others, you know--”

“Right, well, thanks for the, um, talk, Mrs. W-- I mean, um, Molly.” Hermione was now standing up and glancing around the room for anything to do that _wouldn’t_ involve looking at Molly. “We’re fine. So, can I peel some potatoes?”

“That would be lovely.” Molly levitated a bowl of potatoes over to her. “It will certainly be nice to have someone who enjoys the domestic arts in the family. I fear Ginny will never get the hang of cooking. All she’s interested in is flying.” She tutted. “She’s young, though. All of these girls who desire to work outside the home eventually come to their senses.”

Hermione’s wand, involved in a Slicing Charm, almost slipped. _Come to their senses?_ As her mind raced, she mumbled something that seemed to satisfy Molly. Of course they all thought she would marry Ron and stay home. Merlin, Ron certainly acted as if it was preordained. Hermione wasn’t too sure she wanted to do that, however. Was it really a good idea to marry the first person you slept with? What if there was someone better suited out there?

“And I understand that Ginny wants to have a career,” Molly continued, “but I think she’s going to drive Harry away if she isn’t careful, don’t you?”

“Mm hm,” Hermione replied absently as Molly nattered on. It wasn’t as if she would talk Molly out of her opinion, after all. _Maybe Ron and I need to have a serious talk..._

“Maybe you should talk to her.”

Hermione’s head snapped up. “Pardon?”

“Well. I think she’ll listen to you.” Molly emptied the last of the carrots she had peeled into her pot. “You’re practically her best friend.”

“Er, I think Luna may actually be--”

“Oh heavens, no! That girl is lovely but not very practical.” Molly held out her hand for the potatoes and Hermione passed her the bowl. “She’s not sensible like you are, dear. She would probably encourage Ginny in her Quidditch nonsense.” She smiled. “Once you and Ronnie get married it’ll provide the perfect example for Ginny and Harry.”

Personally, Hermione wasn’t sure that Ginny and Harry were meant to be, but she was hardly about to say that. As for the other... “Well, things change. Ron and I may not end up getting married. I plan to have a career at some point, I just haven’t decided yet--”

Molly clucked. “Oh, my dear, don’t be silly. I’ve seen you two together. Of course you’ll get married.” Her head snapped up. “Oh, and here they come.”

“I’ve never seen ickle Ronnie so focussed on catching gnomes,” George said as they walked in. “Seems he had a lot of excess energy to burn today.” He winked at Hermione, who blushed.

“Shut up, George,” Ron muttered, although he, too, grinned at Hermione. “You all right?” he whispered as Molly began ordering everyone about.

“I’m fine.” She inclined her head towards Molly. “We had an interesting conversation, though. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Yeah, okay.” Ron clasped her hand. “Maybe we can, um, disappear for a minute now?”

Hermione sighed. _Now_ he wanted to disappear? Where had he been ten minutes ago?

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Molly declared. “Why don’t you boys all go and wash up and us girls will get everything ready.”

Ron shrugged, then squeezed Hermione’s hand before leaving.

“Arthur, is Ginny still out there?”

“She is. Apparently she challenged Charlie to a game of hunt the Snitch.”

Molly shook her head. “I swear, sometimes I’m surprised we can pry that girl off her broom long enough to eat.”

Just then, Fleur and Bill arrived, and Molly was in her bossy element. Bill was sent outside to retrieve Charlie and Ginny, and Fleur was immediately conscripted to help set up the meal. She and Hermione shared a commiserating look before setting to work.

Dinner was a noisy affair, as it always was at the Burrow. Ron was very attentive, offering to serve Hermione everything from rolls to stew ahead of himself. He even offered her seconds. His uncharacteristic behaviour was making her nervous.

At several points, Molly tried to bring the conversation around to marriage, but Ginny kept changing the topic, much to Hermione’s relief.

Harry, who had been expected, hadn’t been able to make it to dinner, and, after checking the Floo for evidence of him every few minutes, Ginny finally gave up when they got to dessert. “Well, I guess Harry’s been held up again.”

“He said he’d be here,” Ron muttered. “He promised.”

“Why’s it so important?” George asked. “Is Ronnie missing his best mate?”

Ron bristled and Hermione rested a hand on his arm. “Shush, George,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ve been through a lot with Harry, it only makes sense that we worry when he’s not around.”

“I’d say Ronnie’s a bit more worried than usual.” George raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were a Gryffindor, bro?”

“Fine!” Ron stood up. “Everyone, I have an announcement to make.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Something I should have done ages ago,” Ron said, and, to Hermione’s consternation, he dropped to one knee beside her chair.

Molly squealed. “Oh my word, Ronnie. Are you going finally to ask her? Arthur, get the camera...”

“I’m getting to it, Mum, yeah.” Ron pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket. “Sorry to do it like this, ’Mione, and I thought Harry would be here, he’s part of the family, after all, and I guess this could be more romantic--”

“Just get to the question!” George chuckled.

After shooting an exasperated look towards George, Ron turned back to her and said, “Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Time slowed to a stop. Hermione’s mouth fell open and she gaped for a moment. In the distance she heard George say, “Ooh, you’ve surprised her, Ronnie. Best make note of that. It’ll probably be the last time you see it.”

“Say something, ’Mione.” Ron’s hand was trembling.

Hermione bit her lip. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning this?” she asked softly.

Ron rolled his eyes. “This sort of thing is supposed to be a surprise, yeah?”

“Has she said yes yet?” Molly asked in a loud whisper.

“I think we should all go,” Arthur said. “Give them a bit of privacy.”

As they all tiptoed away, Ron took her hand. “So, you haven’t answered my question. You’re beginning to make me nervous.”

“I really wish you had told me you were going to do this, Ron. This is something we should have talked about.”

Ron blinked. “I didn’t think we needed to talk about it. I always assumed we’d--”

“Not everyone marries their childhood sweetheart,” Hermione said, swallowing hard. “I mean, you dated Lavender before me, she could have been the one who you--”

“That was years ago! You’re not bringing up that old thing again, are you? Honestly, ’Mione...”

“No, I’m not, I was just tying to illustrate that not everyone has to marry the first person they--”

“The first person they fu--” Ron glanced to wards the door, “--sleep with?” he snapped.

Hermione bit her lip. “Ron, look, I’m just trying to--”

“I know what you’re doing.” Ron climbed to his feet. “You’re saying no.”

“No, Ron, I...we just need a minute to think here--”

But he had already turned to leave. “I don’t need to think, I have to go,” he muttered, opening the door and pushing past the shocked faces of his parents and siblings.

Hermione sank back into her chair and barely flinched when the Floo whirred.

“Am I too late for dinner?” Harry’s cheerful voice sounded across the room, and as she looked up, Hermione finally noticed that everyone was still staring at her. She gulped.

“Dinner’s over here, I’m afraid,” she said, standing up. “I’ll buy you a meal at the Three Broomsticks, though. Come on.”

Harry blinked at her, glancing over towards the assembled and uncharacteristically silent Weasleys. “Um, did I miss anything?”

Hermione could feel hysterical laughter bubbling up in her, but she tamped it down. Striding over to him, she grasped his arm. “I’ll tell you over dinner, now come on.”

“Yeah, all right, but where’s Ro--?” The rest of Harry’s words were swallowed by the whoosh of Side-Along-Apparation. It didn’t prevent Hermione from hearing George’s last words, however.

“Does this mean we can’t have pudding?”

~

“Oh, Harry! What am I going to do?”

Harry was wolfing down his meal. “Sorry, ’Mione, but I’m starving,” he mumbled. “Studying for that bloody Auror entrance examination is going to kill me.” He winced as she smacked his arm. “What?”

“My life is fucking falling apart, and all you can do is stuff your face?” Hermione snapped.

“Wow.” Harry had stopped eating and was staring at her. “You said ‘fuck’. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.”

She flushed. “ _Will_ you pay attention?!”

“I _am_ paying attention. Ron asked you to marry him, you said no.”

Hermione huffed. “I didn’t say no, I just couldn’t answer at that moment. It was too much pressure, what with his family all watching. And we hadn’t ever discussed it. It came out of nowhere--”

“Wait, what?” Harry shook his head. “Out of nowhere? Honestly, where have you been? Hermione, this _cannot_ have been a shock.”

“Of course it was! How was I supposed to know that he would--?”

“Because he’s Ron. What else was he going to do?” Harry buttered his last bit of bread and devoured it. “You two have been together for a long time.”

“We’ve only really been together for a year.” Hermione shook her head. “I thought we were just, you know, having fun. Exploring. We’re only nineteen.”

Harry wiped his mouth and took a long swig of his ale. “ _You_ were having fun, Ron was serious.” He leaned forward. “He’s been in love with you since we were eleven, Hermione.”

“Oh, he has not!”

“He has, too!” Harry grinned at the look on her face. “Ever since he first laid eyes on you, I’d say. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

Hermione’s forehead hit the table with a thunk. “Not helping, Harry.”

“Sorry.”

He laid a hand on her head and she sighed. “What am I going to do?” she whispered. She looked up into his eyes. “Do you think he’ll ever speak to me again?”

“Are you all right, dear?”

Hermione sat up straight, smiling weakly at Madam Rosmerta, who was hovering by their table. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

Rosmerta pursed her lips but didn’t pursue it. “All right.” She turned to Harry. “Are you done with your dinner, Harry?”

He nodded, sitting back so that she could clear the table. “Yeah, all done, thanks. That was great.”

Rosmerta smiled. “Would you like any dessert?” she asked.

“Some of the apple crumble would be brilliant. Maybe with some custard?”

“You’ve got it.” She eyed Hermione’s goblet. “More mulled wine?”

“Please.”

As Rosmerta walked away, Hermione’s head hit the table once more. “You really think he’s in love with me?” she asked, voice tiny.

“Hopelessly, I’m afraid.”

“Damn.”

Harry chuckled and Hermione looked up at him again. “Nice to know my pain is so amusing,” she growled.

He held up both hands in surrender. “I’m not laughing at you...well, maybe a little, no wait, Hermione!” He grabbed her arm as she was about to stand up and leave. “It just struck me as funny that you’re bloody brilliant at most things, but when it comes to emotions you’re as clueless as the rest of us.” He shrugged. “It’s a new side of you.”

She glared at him. “Again, not helping,” she snapped, although she did sit back down. “So what should I do?”

“Give it a few days, decide what you want to do, and then owl him.”

She contemplated that, then nodded. “Good idea.” Raising her goblet, she drained it. “Now I just need to distract myself for a few days.”

“You could help me study for the Auror examination,” Harry suggested. “I bet it’d be easy for you.”

“You’ve always wanted to be an Auror, haven’t you?” Hermione signalled Rosmerta for a refill. “I wish I knew what I wanted.”

Harry sat back, staring at her.

“What?”

“Why don’t you take the Auror test, too?” he suggested. “It would give you something other than Ron’s broken heart to focus on, and who knows, maybe you’d like it. You could stay at Grimmauld with me, I’ve got plenty of room, so no worries there.”

“I...” Hermione blinked. “How do I qualify to take the test?”

“Anyone with all your NEWTs qualifies. All you have to do is register for it.” Harry was smiling. “And I can’t believe I know something you don’t!”

“Prat.”

He simply grinned and waited.

“All right,” Hermione said slowly. “Maybe I will.”

“Brilliant!”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t fool me. You just want a study partner.”

Harry shrugged. “I freely admit it. Can you blame me? You’re great at studying.” He leaned forward. “But I do think you’d find it interesting. You’ve always had a thing for magic theory.”

Despite herself, Hermione found she was looking forward to it. Maybe the familiar activity of studying would take her mind off Ron.

~

“God, that was horrible.” Harry blinked up into the sunlight as they exited the Ministry of Magic. “It’s still daylight? It feels as if we were in there for days.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t that bad, Harry. Honestly, we reviewed everything that they had on that test. The only really tricky bit was the Arithmancy section, and I bet that you’ll pass even if you didn’t get that.”

“Yeah, well we’re not all geniuses like you,” Harry muttered. “But it’s over and that’s something. So, want to get some dinner? I’m starving.”

“Yes, all right. And really, I’m sure you did fine--” Hermione’s voice trailed off.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, following the direction of her gaze. When he spotted Ron standing there, he bit his lip. “Oh. Right. I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

She nodded but didn’t reply verbally.

After patting her shoulder, Harry walked past Ron and muttered something. Ron nodded, smiled briefly at him, and clapped him on the back, but then immediately transferred his attention back to Hermione as Harry left. “Can we talk?” he asked.

“Of course.” Hermione reached for his arm, wincing as he flinched away. Her arm dropped to her side. “Where do you want to go?”

Ron gestured towards a park across the street. “There are some benches there,” he said.

As they walked across the busy street, carefully not touching, Hermione tried to marshal her thoughts. The week of registering to take the Auror entrance examination and helping Harry to study had reminded her of being at Hogwarts. The subjects they had reviewed had been interesting, and Hermione was honestly looking forward to getting the results. She thought she’d done well and a career in the Aurors didn’t seem as unlikely as it had at the beginning of the week.

“Here?” Ron asked, pointing to an empty bench.

“This is fine,” she said, sitting down. He sat next to her, careful not to touch her. She sighed. “Ron--”

“No.” He held up a hand. “I need to say something before we get started.”

“All right.” Hermione steeled herself. “Go ahead.”

Ron sat there for several seconds before speaking. “Look, Hermione, I just...” He trailed off, and she leaned forward.

“Yes?”

He glanced at her and quickly looked away. “I know now that I...” A noise of frustration burst from him and he sprang to his feet, beginning to pace in the grass. “I realise that you and I...”

Hermione bit her lip. This was almost painful to watch. “That we what, Ron?”

He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “What I’m trying to say is... Fuck, I can’t do this!”

She sat back. “Can’t do what?”

He shot a fierce look at her. “This!” He waved his arms. “I just...”

Closing her eyes, Hermione fought for composure. She’d thought it might come to this. She could at least make this easy for him. “It’s okay, Ron,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I understand, and I agree. I’ve come to the same conclusion. Under the circumstances, we probably should take a break.”

“You what?” Ron was staring at her.

She blinked. “That is what you’ve been trying to say, isn’t it?” she asked. “That we should concentrate on the things we both have to do. I have stuff for the Auror program, if I get in, and you have...” She paused. “Um, whatever it is that you’re doing now.”

Ron was still silent, so Hermione stood up and walked towards him. “It’ll be all right, Ron. Sometimes it’s a good idea to take a step back and--”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Ron’s voice sounded tight and Hermione’s eyes widened. She tilted her head to try to see his averted face. “Ron?” she whispered.

“That’s great,” he said, stepping away. “So we’re still friends, yeah?” At that moment she caught a glimpse of his devastated face and she reached for him.

“Oh, Ron, of course we ar--” His Disapparation crack interrupted her mid word. She drew her hand back. “Dammit.”

~

As she waited at Grimmauld Place, Hermione, restless, read the last five copies of the _Prophet_ from cover to cover while downing several cups of tea. Desperate, she even picked up one of Harry’s Quidditch mags, soon putting it down because the talk of the Cannons winning the cup reminded her too much of Ron.

She was working on her fifth cup of tea when the Floo finally sounded. Jumping to her feet, she rushed towards the fireplace just in time to catch Harry as he stumbled out.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered. “God, I hate Flooing.”

“Did you find him?” Hermione asked as she helped brush ash off his robes. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of ale emanating from him. “Evidently you did, and there was drinking involved,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Harry sniggered. “A bit, yeah. I eventually found him at George’s. Took me a while since I went to his flat and the Burrow before it occurred to me to check with George.” He shrugged. “When I found him, we went out.”

“Of course,” Hermione muttered. At Harry’s frown, she bit her lip. “Sorry. So how was he?” she finally asked once they were back in the kitchen.

Harry scratched his head. “Rough,” he admitted. “When he saw me he almost left, until he realised I was alone.” He poured himself a cuppa and took a sip before looking her in the eyes. “I guess he thought you might come looking for him.”

“Did he want me to?”

“Not really, no.” Harry sighed. “He told me what happened. He’d actually planned to apologise, but you know how bad he is at that. Anyway, when you said that the two of you should break up, he took it, um, kind of hard.”

Hermione’s head hit the table. “Damn. I knew it.”

“He’s decided to go visit Charlie for a while.” Harry shrugged when Hermione looked up at him. “George wanted him to work at the shop, but we all agreed when he said he’d probably feel better out of London.”

“So now I’ve driven him away from his home and family?” Hermione let her head fall onto the table again. “Ugh, I feel horrible.”

“Don’t.” Harry sighed and patted her hand. “If you weren’t sure that you wanted to marry Ron, then saying no was the right thing to do. Saying you’ll marry someone you’re not sure about does neither of you any good.”

Hermione looked up again. “You almost sound as if you’re speaking from experience,” she said, covering his hand with hers.

Harry shrugged, looking away. “I think Ginny still has hopes for us, but I’m not sure that we’re meant to be, you know? I mean, we’re still young, how do I know that we’ll still be compatible in a few years?”

“I don’t think you can ever know something like that for sure.”

He nodded. “Exactly.” Tossing back the last of his tea, he levitated the cup over to the sink. “I’ve only dated two people in my life, who says I have to marry one of them?”

“No one.” Hermione paused. “Well, Mrs. Weasley might.”

Harry shivered. “Well, yes, I suppose she might. Still, I can’t do what she wants if it’ll end up making both me and Ginny unhappy, can I?” He sighed. “I honestly don’t think Ginny really wants to get married either, I think she just wants her mum to shut up. What do I do?”

“I don’t think I’m the person to go to for relationship advice at the moment.” Sitting back, she shook her head. “Honestly, look at us. This is pathetic.”

“We are sort of sad, aren’t we?” Harry grinned. “Here we are, two young, about-to-be Aurors, our lives ahead of us, and we’re moping about our love lives.”

“Or lack thereof,” Hermione mumbled.

Harry shrugged. “Something tells me that we won’t lack for dates when we’re wearing Auror uniforms, though. People in uniform are very popular.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I am not joining the Aurors to get dates,” she replied primly.

“Yeah, but I bet it won’t hurt,” Harry predicted.

~

They both got in, of course, Hermione with the highest marks of any recruit in two decades. Apparently, Alice Longbottom had outscored her by one point in Arithmancy. Hermione consoled herself by remembering she’d only studied for the test for about five days.

Harry had been ecstatic, and seeing him so enthusiastic made Hermione smile, even when, three days later, he and Ginny officially broke up.

Her parents, who were only just beginning to regain their memories of her, seemed vaguely pleased at her news. Hermione took this to mean they really didn’t understand since her mother had never been one to support a career in law-enforcement, thinking it too dangerous.

Hermione threw herself into Auror training, and, while she’d never been particularly fat, the physicality of the program definitely toned her body. She lost a half a stone and built a fair bit of muscle. Her reflexes, neglected by mental study, significantly improved.

“I guess you’re finally back--whoa!” Harry held up his hands in mock surrender as she rounded on him, wand drawn.

She flushed, putting her wand away. “Sorry. That week of magical tracking still has me on edge. And yes, I just got back today.”

Harry waved his hand and slid into a chair across the table from her. “No worries. I’m sure I’ll be the same when I do it next week. I’m beginning to understand why Moody was so bloody paranoid. It wasn’t Voldemort, it was Auror training.”

Hermione chuckled. “I know. These days I actually think he may have been a bit lackadaisical.”

As she made herself a cup of tea, Harry stared at her, and Hermione suffered his looks until she finally said, “What?”

Harry grinned. “You’re sort of scary now, you know?”

She blinked. “What does that mean?”

“Let’s just say that I’d never want to run into you in a dark alley late at night,” Harry said. “You could kick my arse.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think I could have done that before?”

He sniggered. “Now you could do it without even drawing your wand.”

“You know, you could be right.” Hermione laughed. “The hand-to-hand combat class has certainly been...enlightening.”

“That’s the one Robards teaches, yeah?”

“It is,” she confirmed.

Harry sighed. “Isn’t it odd that we’re not doing the same classes at the same time?”

“I think staggering the classes makes sense, actually.” Hermione yawned. “That way we all get to train with different people and hone our skills against our peers.”

“You need sleep,” Harry said.

She nodded. “True.” She stood up. “Can we catch up tomorrow? I’ll be rotating through the archives, so my schedule should be calmer.”

Harry grinned. “Sorry, but I start hand-to-hand tomorrow.”

Hermione smiled. “Then maybe we can test our skills against each other when you’re done.”

“You’re on.”

Giggling at the slightly worried look on Harry’s face, Hermione went up to her room. As she had since the physical portion of her training had started, she fell asleep immediately and, as it had been since she’d broken up with Ron, she had no dreams.

~

Ginny was already waiting at the pub when Hermione arrived. She waved Hermione over. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”

“Sorry.” Hermione slid into the booth. “The rotation I’m on isn’t bad but the hours are awful. Tons of time in the library, though.”

“They know what turns you on,” Ginny teased.

Hermione grinned. “Yes, I suppose so. What are you drinking?”

“It’s good.” Ginny held it up. “It’s got cherry liqueur in it. Other than that, I’ve no idea.” She shrugged. “According to Luna it keeps away the Nargles. Try it.”

Taking a sip, Hermione smiled. “It’s good. All right, I’ll try one of those.”

Holding up her hand, Ginny signalled the waiter, pointed to her glass, and then to Hermione. The waiter nodded.

“Where’s Luna, anyway? Isn’t she coming?”

“She is,” Ginny confirmed. “It’s deadline day at _The Quibbler_ , though. She said she might be late.” Leaning forward, Ginny said, “Plus, I wanted to talk to you before she got here.”

“Oh?” Her drink appeared on the table in front of her and Hermione sipped it. “About what?”

“Are you all right?” Ginny toyed with the moisture on her glass. “Ever since you and Ron broke up, you haven’t really dated anyone else.”

“I don’t really have time.”

“I’m on tour and I have time,” Ginny said. “Yes, they’re usually other players, but still, if I can find time to date a bloke or two, surely you can.”

“I think men are intimidated by Aurors,” Hermione said, tone dry. “The last time someone tried to ask me out he backed away pretty quickly when he found out I’m an Auror trainee.”

“What about other Aurors?” Ginny was staring into her drink now. “You could even date Harry, I suppose. You are living together, it would be easy.”

“Harry?” Hermione made a face. “Ugh, no. That would be like dating my brother. Not a chance.”

Ginny grinned. “Good.” She flushed as Hermione raised an eyebrow. “What? I want him to be happy, but I just don’t think I could handle it if the two of you ended up together. Sorry.”

“There is no chance that will happen.” Hermione pursed her lips. “I can’t see ending up with any of the Aurors I know, actually. First off, we’d never see each other, and second...none of them appeal to me. They’re all so--” She waved her hands.

“Boring?” Ginny sniggered at the look on Hermione’s face. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought it.”

“Maybe a little,” Hermione admitted. “Anyway, I’m not interested in anyone at the moment. Who knows if I ever will be? I may be destined to be alone.”

“Rubbish,” Ginny said, tapping her fingers against the table. “You just need to meet the right man.”

“We’ll see.”

Ginny nodded. “Yes, we will. Oh, by the way, Mum says to tell you that you’re still invited to dinner on Sundays.”

Hermione blinked. “She did? Wow.”

“Yeah.” Ginny winked. “I think she still holds out hope that you’ll marry someone in the family.”

“Oh God.” Hermione shook her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ginny, but I’m staying away from your brothers. And your mum thinks I’m insane for wanting a career in the first place.” She sighed. “I sometimes wonder if I am--”

“What?” Ginny clasped her hand. “That’s rubbish. Hermione, you’re brilliant. It’d be a waste to not do something with that brain of yours.”

Hermione smiled. “I suppose. It’s hard to ignore the fact that everyone expects me to settle down and have children, though. Even my mother’s been asking questions about whether or not I’m involved with anyone.”

“Tell me about it. You ready for another?” At Hermione’s nod, she signalled for another round. “Now that Harry and I are no longer an item, Mum Floos me every week asking if I’m dating anyone and if so, do I want to bring them to dinner.” Ginny snorted. “As if!” Looking up, she grinned and rose from her seat, waving. “Oh, there’s Luna.”

“Hullo!” Luna slipped in next to Hermione. “Oh, you’re drinking those cherry drinks.”

“Yes, I hear they keep the Nargles away,” Hermione said.

Luna smiled. “Don’t be silly, Hermione. Nargles hate pubs.” A drink popped up before her and, raising it, Luna said, “Here’s to avoiding Wrackspurts!”

Laughing, Hermione raised her own glass and toasted.

~

Hermione slowly got to her feet. Exhaling, she raised her wand, and this time, managed to stay upright as the spell approached. Narrowing her eyes, she examined the flow of magic before executing a complicated wrist motion that made the hex dissolve. The attack dissipated and she relaxed slightly, awaiting the next test of her defences.

“Excellent. Very few people manage to dissect that manoeuvre so quickly,” a disembodied voice said. “Your test is complete, Auror-Trainee Granger.”

Suspicious, Hermione kept her wand at the ready even as she moved towards the exit. It was fortunate that she had, since she barely managed to deflect a hex that snapped towards her from the left. She disabled it and, for good measure, reinforced her shields.

“And you’ve clearly learned the lesson to always be vigilant.” The voice sounded approving, and, while she didn’t smile outwardly, Hermione felt no small amount of pride. “You really are done now. The door is open.”

She emerged from the testing room, blinking in the dimly lit hallway. She took a moment to get her bearings.

To become full Aurors, trainees had to pass duelling tests. The tests were composed and administered by the Unspeakables to avoid any favouritism and this was Hermione’s first one. Her fellow trainees swore they were exercises in futility as no one ever managed to thwart them. She was still shocked she’d managed to emerge unscathed.

“You did very well.” A nondescript man was standing there, the itch behind her eyes telling Hermione he was under a magical Glamour. “Not many trainees manage to emerge unscathed from that test.” He smiled, making Hermione shiver. “I shall clearly have to come up with more imaginative tests for you.”

Hermione inclined her head. “Actually, it was quite challenging as it was.”

The man smiled. “Thank you. I created it.”

“Oh.” Hermione’s eyes widened. “OH! That means you’re--”

He nodded. “An Unspeakable, yes.” He regarded her for a long moment. “Call me...Smith. Anyway, have you considered joining the Unspeakables, Granger? You have the mind and the temperament for it.”

“I...” She was rarely speechless, but this offer floored her. She retreated in the rules. “But regulations state that one must serve at least one year in the Auror corps before being qualified to request consideration as an Unspeakable.”

Smith smiled. “I’m aware of the regulations; after all, I helped craft them. When we spot talent, however, we start recruiting...early. I hope you will consider applying, Granger, we could use your keen mind.”

As he walked away, Hermione could hardly contain herself. She had to bite her lips hard to prevent a smile. As it was, she barely managed to make it back to the trainee locker room without letting out a whoop.

“You must’ve done well,” Cooper, one of her fellow trainees, said, looking up from her book.

Hermione smiled. “I suppose I did all right.” Grabbing her bag from her locker, she asked, “Is Harry around?”

Cooper shrugged. “He finished early and said something about going home.”

“Great, thanks!” Brimming with her news, Hermione Apparated directly to Grimmauld Place, letting herself in through the wards.

She had spent several months looking for her own flat until finally, Harry had made it clear that she would be doing him a favour by living with him. They’d set aside a day to make one of the floors hers, and while she sometimes missed her privacy, she did love having a roommate, someone to talk to. On her rare weekends off, she could knock about her floor in her pyjamas with no one the wiser, and when she wanted company, Harry was available.

Edging past Mrs. Black’s portrait, she looked first in the kitchen before heading up the stairs.

Harry’s floor seemed quiet so she tiptoed up to his door, pressing her ear to it before deciding it was safe to go in. As he was on his tracking rotation, he was probably just resting; it was likely he wasn’t yet asleep. He wasn’t snoring yet, after all. Another good sign was that the door wasn’t locked, in fact it was cracked open.

“Harry?” She pushed the door fully open, then froze. Harry _was_ resting, but it was who he was practically lying on top of that shocked Hermione. “Charlie?!”

Charlie looked good. Of course it helped that he was clearly naked beneath the thin sheet. Hermione’s eyes traced the curve of his hip, stopping where she saw a dragon tattoo peeking at her over the edge of the sheet. Harry’s arm was draped possessively over Charlie’s pectorals.

One of Charlie’s eyes popped open and he grinned at her. “Oh, hullo, Hermione. Harry said you were living here, although I thought he said you two had separate floors.”

Harry, whose face was pressed against Charlie’s naked chest, shifted and mumbled something.

“I’m so sorry.” Hermione’s face was flaming, and as she backed out she registered the curve of Harry’s obviously naked arse. She faltered before finally tearing her eyes away and focussing on a spot on the far wall. “We do have separate floors. I just wanted to, um... Sorry!”

“Wait...”

Hermione shut the door and started towards her floor. She had just put a foot on the bottom stair when Harry’s door opened and he emerged, clad in a dressing gown. “Hermione?”

She sighed. “Sorry, Harry. It totally didn’t occur to me that you could be, um, entertaining.” Not looking at him, she began up the stairs, pausing only when he grasped her arm.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked.

Hermione frowned. “It’s not my place to be okay with your private life, Harry. You can date whoever you like.”

“I meant with me being in bed with a man,” Harry clarified. He actually sounded worried, and it was that scared note in his voice that finally made her turn around and look him in the eye. She smiled reassuringly.

“Oh, Harry.” She sat on a stair, wrapping her arms around her knees. “We’re friends no matter who either of us sleep with.” Blushing, she then added, “I have to compliment your taste, actually.”

Harry grinned and leaned against the wall. “He is a fit bloke, isn’t he?”

Hermione giggled. “That he is.” And just like that, her discomfiture passed. This was her best friend. Yes, she’d walking in on him, but it didn’t matter. He needed her support and friendship. “I guess this explains why things didn’t work with Ginny, hm?” At his sheepish look, she shook her head. “So how did this happen?” she asked.

Harry shrugged. “I went to visit Ron, wanted to make sure he was okay, you know, since he never returned from Romania.”

She nodded. She hadn’t asked, but she’d known that Ron had stayed with Charlie on the reserve. “Is he planning on staying there much longer?” she asked carefully.

“Maybe.” Harry ran his hand through his hair. “He doesn’t seem to be clear on what he wants. I’ve been checking on him every few weeks. Anyway, one of the times I visited, Charlie and I got drunk and one thing led to another--”

Hermione held up a hand. “I get it. No details are necessary.” She tilted her head. “Does he make you happy?”

Blushing furiously, Harry nodded. “He does. I mean, we’re not planning on getting married or anything, but he’s a great bloke and we’re enjoying ourselves, you know? This is the first time I’ve ever had that.”

“I understand.” Leaning forward, she said, “And it looks as if we need to decide on a code for ‘do not disturb’.”

Harry chuckled. “True, and hey, you may need it too one of these days,” he teased.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, “Unlikely.”

“We’ll see. Hey, why did you come to my room, anyway?”

“Oh! I have news!” Grinning, Hermione related the conversation with Smith the Unspeakable. “I was floored, actually.”

“Are you going to do it?”

She pursed her lips. “I think so! I mean, I haven’t even really been an Auror yet, but the thought of doing research in the Department of Mysteries is interesting. I’m definitely going to be an Auror first, though.”

“Well you have to be, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, but something about the way he spoke indicated that if I’d given him an answer right then, he might have waived the rules.”

Harry whistled softly. “That’s really brilliant, Hermione!”

“Oi, Harry?!”

She sniggered as Harry winced. “You go on; we’ll talk more about this in the morning, all right?”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry leaned close and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, Hermione. And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being you.” Harry spun on his heel and trotted back to his room and just before the door closed, he waved.

She smiled and when she got to her room, took a long, hot shower. Crawling into bed, she lay awake for a long time remembering how happy Harry had looked resting in Charlie’s arms and hoping that she would find such happiness one day. Sleep was a long time in coming that night.

~

Hermione surreptitiously wiped her hands on her robes as she waited. All the training she’d gone through in the previous months, all the late nights and extra studying, it all boiled down to this. Her first assignment as a brand new Auror.

Harry sat next to her, and while he was expressionless, she knew him well enough to see that he, too, was nervous.

Two Aurors emerged from Kingsley’s office and walked away chatting softly. “Granger and Potter, come in!”

As one, they rose and walked into Kingsley’s office, shutting the door behind them. Hermione could feel the privacy wards closing in behind her.

“Have a seat.”

Hermione took the chair on the right, Harry the one on the left, and they both stared at Kingsley, who was writing something down on a parchment. He glanced up after a minute and smiled. “Sorry, I have my share of paperwork to do.” Sitting back, he steepled his fingers and regarded them soberly. “So, I imagine you’re wondering what your first job will be.”

Harry cleared his throat. “We know that new Aurors rarely get the plum assignments, sir.”

Kingsley smiled. “Very true. I’m not going to set you the task of patrolling Diagon Alley if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Hermione relaxed infinitesimally. She couldn’t imagine a more boring job, actually, and she’d hoped to avoid it if at all possible.

Sliding two folders towards them, Kingsley said, “Look at that.”

It took Hermione about two seconds to see what their assignment was and, incredulous, she raised her eyes to stare at Kingsley. “Are you sure this is wise, sir?”

He smiled. “Wise? Perhaps not. Comfortable for you given that you both have a rather spotty history with the people who you’ll be guarding? Definitely not.” He pursed his lips. “And yet I suspect that you can handle this position successfully where other Aurors would not.”

Harry appeared to be in shock. “You want us to--” He blinked and stared down at the paper in his hands. “Move in to Malfoy Manor to provide security for Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy?”

“And Severus Snape, who happens to be living there with them.” Kingsley raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

Flushed, Harry said, “No, sir. Not at all.” His face was averted from Hermione.

Kingsley nodded. “Good.” He sighed. “Every few months we get word of splinter groups of the Death Eaters popping up. When Voldemort was defeated, it didn’t decimate all of his followers, unfortunately. New groups appear every few months, and every time a new bunch shows up, they murder one of the Death Eaters who’ve given us information on the inner workings of Voldemort’s operation.

“Malfoy and Snape are at the top of that list. We recently got a tip that an attack is planned against one or all of them. Clearly, we can’t afford to lose them. They are _still_ giving us invaluable insight and information into Voldemort’s organization as well as consulting about Dark arts.” Kingsley sighed. “Voldemort was insane, but he was also brilliant, and anyone who manages to step into his shoes could wreak havoc.

“This is a very important assignment; you both scored at the top of your class in duelling and shields, you’re both perfect for this.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry’s agitation was only obvious in his tight-knuckled grip of his assignment folder.

Kingsley ignored Harry and turned towards Hermione. “Given your...history with Malfoy Manor, I would understand if you refuse this assignment, Granger. I wouldn’t hold it against you, although I do hope you won’t.”

Swallowing hard, Hermione shook her head. “I have no problem with going back to Malfoy Manor, sir. I can do this.”

He nodded, a glint of approval in his eyes. “I have every confidence that you can, Auror.” He got to his feet. “You’ll have to live there, of course. The Malfoys have set aside quarters for you both.”

“Of course,” Harry muttered.

Kingsley again ignored him. “They have also agreed to allow you to track their movements magically.”

“Snape, too?” Harry asked.

“Yes. He’s been very helpful to the Ministry, Potter. I trust you can manage to overcome any personal animosity, justified or not.”

Harry sighed. “I’m sure I can if he can.”

Hermione hid a smile and Harry flushed under Kingsley’s stare. “Do not make me regret giving you this assignment,” he said, voice soft. “You’ll have people’s lives in your hands, after all.”

“You won’t regret this, sir, I promise.” She met his look unflinchingly and out of the corner of her eye she could see Harry nodding. “We’ll be fine, and so will our charges.”

After a long moment, Kingsley nodded. As he gave them final instructions, however, all Hermione could think about was how little she’d ever wanted to see Malfoy Manor again. But this was her job now; this was what she’d signed up for, to protect people, even if they might not deserve it. _And even if Lucius and Draco Malfoy are utter pillocks, I’ll guard them and make Kingsley proud._

~

Their arrival at Malfoy Manor was anticlimactic. Hermione hadn’t been sure what to expect, but eerie silence had not been it. The grounds were quiet, that she had anticipated, but the whole estate also had a surprising air of neglect, even though not a hedge was out of place. She shivered. The roaming peacocks were nowhere to be seen. Not a breeze stirred and yet, she felt chilled.

“Are you ready for this?” Harry asked as they stood before the door.

She nodded. “I think so. More importantly, are you?” she asked, turning to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be seeing Snape for the first time since the trial.” She inclined her head.

Harry sighed. “Yeah. Did I tell you I gave him back his memories?”

“You did.” She patted his arm. “And it was the right thing to do.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “It’s just...I lived with his memories for so long that it almost felt as if he was a part of me, you know? But then when I returned them he was so...cool. All those years I thought he hated me...”

“He had to appear to hate you, remember?” Hermione shrugged.

“I know. I’d just hoped...” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Never mind.”

“What had you hoped?”

“It’s not important. It’s time to get this over with. Ready?”

Hermione bit her lip, vowing to pursue it later. “As I’ll ever be.” Exhaling, she rang the doorbell. Chimes sounded deep in the house.

From inside, there was a crash followed by muttering which heralded the door opening. Hermione looked down only to see an ancient house-elf blinking up at them. “Malfoys is not talking to any peoples,” it wheezed.

“I believe they’re expecting us,” Harry replied. “We’re the Aurors from the Ministry.”

“Nice to see that time hasn’t blunted your opinion of yourself, Potter,” a smooch voice jeered from inside. “Let them in, Blinky. I suspect they won’t go away until you do.”

Hermione held her breath but Harry handled it perfectly. “Since we’re here for your protection, Malfoy, you’re right, we won’t go away. At least not until our assignment has been fulfilled. After that you’ll be rid of us.”

“Promises, promises.”

Jaw tense, Hermione stepped past the elf, and as they entered, Draco’s face became more visible. He was leaning against the marble wall, his habitual sneer fixed firmly in place. “ _The_ Aurors from the Ministry?” he mocked. “What, didn’t they have any real Aurors to send?”

Reflexively, Hermione’s hand tightened on her wand.

“Draco, you’re being rude.” A tall form glided past them. Hermione had remembered how elegant Narcissa Malfoy was, but the steel underlying her tone brought home forcibly how firm she could be as well. Now standing squarely in front of Draco and blocking their view of him, Narcissa said, voice cool, “Malfoys are never rude.”

Draco, red, looked away as she continued. “Aurors Potter and Granger have been sent here for our protection. They shall be treated as honoured guests.”

He mumbled something, but when his mother glared at him, he flushed. “Of course, Mother. I apologize.” Pushing off the wall against which he’d been lounging, he glared at them. “Come along then, _Aurors_ , I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

“One moment, Draco.” Narcissa moved closer to Harry and Hermione, and for a moment, a light floral scent that brought to mind lavender enveloped Hermione. “We really are glad to have you both here,” she murmured. “I am especially appreciative because the last time you were here the circumstances were hardly auspicious.” To Hermione’s shock, she then held out her hand. “Please accept my personal apology for any harm caused to you during the war.”

Hermione had long ago let go of her bitterness associated with her capture at the hands of Bellatrix in this Manor, yet, at that moment, a tightness deep inside her seemed to dissipate. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and shook the proffered hand. Narcissa’s skin was soft, her handshake firm. “Apology accepted,” she murmured. “And I forgive you.”

Around them, the air seemed to sparkle for a moment. Hermione blinked and it was gone. Shaken, she released Narcissa’s hand and stepped back.

Surprise flared in Narcissa’s eyes. She pursed her lips but otherwise seemed unaffected.

_Good Lord, what is wrong with me?_ Hermione’s hand was still tingling and she surreptitiously rubbed it on her robes.

Narcissa had already turned to Harry and he’d offered his hand as well. Smiling faintly before accepting, Narcissa offered her apology to him, seeming relieved when he accepted. There was no sparkle around them at the conclusion of the handshake Hermione was quick to note.

“Thank you. That was very gracious of you both.” Narcissa stepped back. “You should know that we serve formal tea in the west drawing room at five o’clock and that dinner is at eight o’clock in the upstairs dining room. Draco will collect you for both meals. Our elves are...not as they used to be.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

Narcissa sighed. “When the Dark Lord conscripted our home as his headquarters during the war, he was not a...kind master. Once we saw the way he treated them, Lucius and I freed as many as possible. Blinky is the only one left, I’m afraid.”

“Blinky is proud to serve the ancient house of Malfoy!”

Narcissa smiled, and to Hermione’s shock, there was a fond look on her face as she gazed down at the creature. “And we are proud to have you serve us, Blinky,” she replied. “And yet, this is a large estate, too large for any one elf to manage.”

_I can’t believe I’m about to ask this..._ “Why haven’t you obtained more elves?” Hermione asked.

Draco snorted. “Haven’t you done your research, Granger? By Wizengamot decree, Malfoys aren’t allowed to expand our estates in any way. What we owned on the day of our sentencing is the sum total of what we’re allowed to own for ten years.”

“But what if you need to buy something?” Harry asked. “Surely...”

“If any of us attempt to purchase anything new, it is immediately banished.” Narcissa smiled, and this time it had an unmistakable tinge of underlying bitterness. “Food appears to be an exception, presumably since consuming it precludes us accumulating too much of it, but the spell is very specific. If any of our investments go up in value we must dispose of it as quickly as possible; if we attempt to replace clothing or household goods, what we are replacing must be virtually...unusable.”

“But...that’s horrible!” Hermione blurted. “However do you manage?”

“That would be why I am here, Auror Granger.”

Startled, Hermione spun to see Severus Snape standing there. “Oh, hello, Professor Snape. What do you mean?”

Snape inclined his head. “Apparently I must remind you that I am no longer anyone’s professor, Granger.”

“Right, of course. Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “You were explaining about how your presence helps the Malfoys?”

“I was. The spell placed on the Malfoy family does not preclude _me_ from purchasing items or obtaining money, thus anything that I acquire I may keep. My fortunes certainly have increased since the trial.” Snape stepped into the foyer.

Narcissa smiled, shooting a look Snape’s way. “We _are_ fortunate that Severus’ tastes dovetail with our own in so many ways.”

“Indeed.” Snape was looking at Harry, dark eyes intense. “Potter, Shacklebolt told me he was assigning you here.”

“Warned you, more like,” Harry muttered. Hermione coughed and he blushed. “Sorry. Hullo, Snape.”

Hermione sighed. As it had always been when Snape and Harry were in a room together, the tension was palpable. “Right, well, if you’ll allow us, we would like to set tracking spells on everyone today,” she said when it appeared that Snape and Harry were going to try to stare each other into submission. “Just as a basic precaution.”

Narcissa took up the conversational thread immediately. “Tracking spells?” She frowned. “What sort of tracking spells?”

“Very basic,” Hermione explained. “Similar to the ones parents cast on young children so that they’re aware of their location.”

“Would these involve hearing everything that I do, or seeing everything I see?” Narcissa smiled wryly. “That might get a bit...claustrophobic, after all, speaking solely as a...married woman.”

Hermione blushed. “Oh no, nothing that intrusive, of course.”

Narcissa stared at her for a long moment before glancing at Draco and Snape. “I see. And how long will this procedure take?”

“About two minutes per person,” Harry said, finally looking away from Snape. “It would be for the best if we could place them on everyone now, though, since the longer we wait, the more dangerous it will be.”

“I see.” Inclining her head, Narcissa seemed to ponder this before finally nodding. “Very well, proceed. I place myself in your capable hands.”

Pleased at Narcissa’s quick acquiescence, Hermione stepped forward and, pulling out her wand, cast the spell, being sure to check that she was clearly sensing Narcissa’s aura before stepping back. “That’s it,” she finally said when she felt the bond snap into place. “If you’re in trouble I should be able to sense it, tell the nature of the difficulty, and I’ll even be able to track your whereabouts for the next couple of days.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened. “So the spell doesn’t last forever?”

“Oh, no.” Hermione cleared her throat. “We would never do that. It only lasts for a few days, three at the most, so we shall have to renew it every other day or so, just to be safe.”

“I see.” Narcissa stared at Hermione for a long moment. “And should I be able to sense things from you, too?”

“I don’t believe so.” Hermione frowned. “Why do you ask?

“I was just curious if this was a two-way bond. I’m sure you understand if I’ve questions about this bonding spell given recent history.” She shuddered.

“Of course.” Hermione nodded. The fact that Narcissa had anticipated a bond like the one she’d had with Voldemort struck Hermione in that moment. No wonder she’d been so reticent. Hermione found herself appreciating Narcissa’s bravery.

Narcissa looked over at Harry. “And shall you be placing a similar spell on me as well, Auror Potter?” she asked.

Hermione glanced at Harry. “Actually, we had discussed doing that but it’s a bit too confusing to know who you’re sensing if you have too many tracking spells on too many people, so I’ll be tracking you and your husband and--”

“And Severus and I get the boy wonder,” Draco sneered. “Great.”

“Draco!” Narcissa snapped.

Draco scowled. “Sorry.”

Before Narcissa could reply to that grossly insincere statement, Snape interrupted. “Draco does have a point, however,” he said. “If Potter is injured or killed, then he and I are vulnerable. The same goes for you and Lucius, Narcissa, should anything happen to Granger.”

“I suppose that if one of us is killed, we’ll be replaced,” Harry said, glaring at Snape. “Which just means we’ll both have to be very careful to not get hurt.”

“Constant vigilance?” Snape murmured. “Moody would be so pleased that you’ve taken his words to heart.”

Harry’s eyes went cold. “Moody was a fine man.”

“Indeed. And yet he’s not here, is he? How...ironic.”

“Why you--!”

“One of the things I most appreciate about this house is that there’s never a lack of excitement here.” Lucius Malfoy, looking as aristocratic as ever, walked in. His directed his question towards Narcissa. “Is there a reason we’re about to have a duel in the foyer? After all, we do have duelling rooms.”

“Severus and Auror Potter were hardly about to duel, dear.” Narcissa held out her hand to Lucius, who dutifully bent low to brush a kiss across it. “At least, I don’t think they were.”

“They were not,” Hermione said, voice firm. She glared at Harry who flushed and looked away. “Good afternoon, Lord Malfoy.”

“Auror Granger.” Lucius Malfoy had never struck Hermione as particularly attractive, yet in that moment, as he smiled at her, she could see why a young and beautiful Narcissa Black would have been taken with him. “So, is there a reason that we are conducting this conversation in the entrance hall, Narcissa?”

Narcissa smiled. “You’re right, Lucius. I’ve been remiss in my duties as hostess. Draco was going to show the Aurors to their suite, but they insisted on getting right to work, and so we’ve all been a bit distracted.”

“How...dedicated.” Lucius exchanged a long look with Narcissa. “The east drawing room would perhaps be a better venue for such activities.”

“Of course, you’re quite right.” Gesturing, Narcissa said to Harry and Hermione, “If you’ll both come this way...”

The east drawing room was decorated in shades of pale blue and silver, several overstuffed chairs and sofas dotting the room in various conversational groupings. Narcissa led the way to one of the larger collections of chairs before sitting on a small settee. “I think we’ll have a less formal tea this afternoon, don’t you?” she said to Lucius, who sat next to her.

Snape and Draco sat next to each other on a sofa; Harry and Hermione chose to sit in chairs. Harry seemed a bit calmer, so Hermione judged the time right to try again. Leaning forward, she said, “Lord Malfoy, we were discussing casting tracking spells on all of you that would allow us to be aware of your location and state of being.”

“You want to trace all of our movements all the time?” Lucius pursed his lips. “This would create a bit of a bond between us, would it not?”

Hermione nodded. “It would, but there’s not any sort of Legilimency involved and no coercion. If you’d rather we not do it, that will make our jobs more difficult, but we can still do our best to protect--”

“I’ve already permitted Auror Granger to cast it on me, dear,” Narcissa interrupted.

Lucius’ eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“I thought it best we cooperate with our guests as far as we are able.” Narcissa busied herself with tea as the setting appeared in front of her. “How do you take your tea, Aurors?”

“You’ve never been this...spontaneous before.” Lucius’ demeanour never changed, but it was clear he was not pleased with his wife’s action.

“Milk and two sugars please.” After receiving her tea, Hermione sat back to try to dissect the dynamic between the Malfoys.

Narcissa never blinked. “Ah, but I wasn’t being that spontaneous, dear. Auror Granger has granted me forgiveness,” she replied, handing him a cup of tea. She then deftly poured Harry’s -- three sugars, no milk-- and handed it to him.

“She did?” Lucius measured Hermione with his eyes before sipping.

“She did?” Snape echoed.

“She did,” Hermione said, tone dry. “Is that a problem?”

“How...generous,” Lucius murmured.

“Generous?” Hermione looked back and forth between Snape and the elder Malfoys. “What do you mean?”

“I’m shocked you don’t know this,” Snape said. “To forgive someone is very potent magic, Granger,” he informed her, stretching forward to accept the cup of unadulterated tea that Narcissa levitated towards him. “It cannot be coerced; it is granted, not earned. It denotes...true trust.”

Hermione blinked. “I had no idea.”

“Indeed.” Snape slanted a glance towards Harry. “It is not often granted in the wizarding world.” At that, both Harry and Draco looked uncomfortable.

“Perhaps you weren’t being as headstrong as I first assumed, darling,” Lucius said to Narcissa, snagging a chocolate digestive from a tray as it floated by. “Pardon me.”

“So will you allow me to place a tracking spell on you, Lord Malfoy?” Hermione asked, not allowing herself to be swayed from her original topic.

Lucius smirked. “I shall...consider it.”

“And how about you, Snape?” Harry challenged. “Will you let me track you for your protection?”

“I’ve managed to protect myself for decades without you tracking me, Potter,” Snape sneered. “I’m sure I can manage somehow.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Look, Snape, you promised that you would cooperate--”

“I am cooperating.” Snape sipped more tea. “I am still here, am I not?”

Harry muttered something uncomplimentary, sitting back in his chair.

“Auror Potter, perhaps it would be best if you start by placing the spell on Draco initially,” Lucius said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Since Severus is...reluctant.”

“What? No!” Draco looked outraged. “Why do I have to let him cast some weird Ministry bonding spell on me?”

“It’s for your own protection, Draco.” Narcissa looked implacable. “And you’ll do this for me. If Shacklebolt thinks we’re in danger, then it’s real. He’s one of the smartest people I know.” She inclined her head towards Snape and, to Hermione’s shock, _her_. “Present company excepted, naturally.”

“I don’t want Potter casting any mysterious spells on me,” Draco muttered, pouting. “He’ll probably mess it up or something. We don’t even know if he’s ever done it on anyone before!”

To Hermione’s shock, Harry, instead of exploding, _smirked_. “Oh, I’ve done it many times, Malfoy,” he drawled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. And it’s all right if you’re...scared. Quite understandable, really.”

Hermione hid a smile as Draco’s mouth fell open. Then, to her surprise, he shook his head and laughed. “Fine, Scarhead. Go ahead, do your worst.”

Harry pulled out his wand and cast the spell. Afterwards, Draco immediately walked over to a mirror. “Well I look the same at least,” he muttered, leaning in and smoothing down his hair.

Harry just rolled his eyes. “Snape?”

Snape crossed his arms. “Absolutely not.” He looked towards Lucius, and for a moment they seemed to be communicating mentally. For all Hermione knew, they were.

“Right.” Lucius stood up and extended his hand to assist Narcissa. “If you will excuse us, Aurors, we generally take a mid-afternoon rest before dinner.” He pinned Draco with a look. “Draco shall show you to the suite we’ve prepared for your stay.”

Harry was still glaring at Snape, but when Hermione touched his arm he nodded, falling into step beside her as they followed Draco out of the drawing room. As the door shut behind them, Hermione exhaled. She had a lot to research; she hoped Malfoy Manor had a decent library.

~

As it turned out, Malfoy Manor had a superb library. Draco hadn’t seemed surprised when she’d asked for directions and access as soon as he’d shown her to the suite.

“I thought you would want to unpack.”

“Not at the moment. I have some things to research first.”

Rolling his eyes, Draco had nonetheless escorted her to the library. “The wards have been keyed to you and Potter,” he said, gesturing at the door. “Not that Potter will avail himself of it.” The last was mumbled.

Hermione smiled. “I think you’d be surprised,” she said before walking past him and into what, a few years ago, she would have considered heaven.

The Malfoy library was enormous. It was three stories high with a staircase a both ends of the room. Thousands of books lined the shelves and, blinking, Hermione wondered aloud how she would ever find what she needed.

“Just ask,” someone said.

Hermione jumped. “Who’s here?”

“Over here, girl.”

Walking further into the room, Hermione peered up at the walls, spotting a portrait. “Hello.”

The portrait of an old, obviously aristocratic woman, peered down at her. “And who are you, child?”

“Hermione Granger. And you are?”

“Granger is not a pure-blood name.”

Crossing her arms, Hermione glared up at the portrait. “No, it’s not. That is because no one else in my family is a wizard. Is that a problem?”

The portrait raised an eyebrow. “A Muggle-born, and a fiery one at that. How...interesting.” After inspecting Hermione for a long moment, she smiled, much to Hermione’s shock. “Perhaps Lucius has regained his senses after all.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am Malfida Prince Malfoy,” the portrait said. “I am the guardian of this library, and I bid you welcome.”

“Um, thank you.” Hermione looked around. “What did you mean by, ‘Lucius has regained his senses’?”

Malfida snorted. “If he’s allowed you into the Manor and given you access to the library, then he must have rethought those insane ideas about blood purity he spent the last few decades spouting. Honestly. If you go back far enough in anyone’s family, you find Muggle-borns. It’s all the fault of those friends of his, I’m sure of it.”

“Friends?”

“That creature.” Malfida shuddered. Leaning forward, she winked. “It tried to access the books on arcane magicks but I blocked it. What could it do to me, after all?” She smirked. “Kill me again?”

“I suppose not.” Hermione blinked. “So you are how I go about locating specific books?”

Malfida inclined her head. “I have been here for many years. I know where everything is. Now, what are you looking for, child?”

Deciding to let the ‘child’ comment go, Hermione said, “I need to read up on granting forgiveness.”

“Oh ho.” Malfida tapped her finger against her lips. “That’s very old magic. Let me see--”

A book extricated itself from one of the upper shelves on the second floor and floated towards Hermione. It hovered before her until she held out her hands, palms up. Immediately, it settled in her hands.

“This is it?” she asked. The cover was old, the title faded. It seemed to throb under her fingers.

“It’s where you should start,” Malfida corrected, voice gentle. “Once you’ve finished that, return and I’ll provide another if you need more information.”

Fascinated despite herself, Hermione tucked the book into her robes. “Thank you.”

“I should warn you. Books are not able to be removed from the Manor except by those recognised as Malfoys. Do not attempt to take it too far away.”

Hermione inclined her head. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be sure to read it here.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll look forward to our next meeting, child.” The portrait closed her eyes and went still.

Pursing her lips, Hermione hesitated for a moment before walking out of the library. Malfida had certainly given her a lot to think about.

~

Dinner was a quiet affair. Lucius and Narcissa sat across from each other at both ends of the table; Snape and Draco sat on one side, Harry and Hermione on the other. Blinky served them in stoic silence, seeming to respond to the slightest quirk of either Lucius’ or Narcissa’s eyebrow.

The food was delicious, from the soup to the roast to the vegetables, and when the pudding appeared in front of her, Hermione, full, sighed. “Oh dear.”

Narcissa inclined her head. “It was my understanding that chocolate cake is a particular favourite of yours, Auror Granger,” she said. “Were we misinformed?”

Hermione shook her head. “Oh, not at all. I do love chocolate cake, I’m just very full at the moment.” She paused. “Who told you that I like chocolate cake?”

“I did,” Draco said, surprising Hermione. “Although it’s hardly a secret. We’ve all seen you around chocolate, Granger. It’s almost indecent.”

“Draco!” Narcissa, eyebrow raised, sent a quelling look his way.

To their evident surprise, Hermione giggled. “It’s all right,” she said. “He’s right. I do really enjoy chocolate. Everyone at school knew to leave me alone whenever Hogwarts served their double chocolate fudge cake.” She eyed the decadent dessert and licked her lips. “May I save this for later?”

Lucius smiled. “Of course. Blinky!” The elf popped into visibility next to his chair and Lucius leaned close, giving him instructions.

In the meantime, everyone else was enjoying the cake. “This is very good,” Harry mumbled around his mouthful.

Even Snape seemed to be enjoying his dessert, and Hermione couldn’t remember him ever displaying any pleasure during the meals at Hogwarts. _I suppose worrying about Voldemort and the students every day could put anyone off their meals, though,_ her conscience reminded her. _He saved all of us more times that we can count._

Snape, apparently sensing her gaze, raised his head to look at her. He quirked an eyebrow as if asking a question and she looked away.

Dabbing at her lips, Narcissa stood, all the men immediately standing with her. “I believe I shall retire now. Have a good evening, everyone. Lucius.”

Lucius stepped away from the table and held out his arm.

“I’ll take first patrol,” Hermione said to Harry as she, too, stood up.

“Yes, all right.” Harry pushed aside his pudding. “Do you need help setting up the shields?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This manor is equipped with excellent wards,” Lucius said. “They are keyed to me, as master of the manor.”

Hermione inclined her head. “Which is why we, too, need a way to sense any activity that may be impacting them,” she said. “Unless you’d like to key your existing wards to myself and Harry?” She smiled. “If so, we’re happy to keep everything as is.”

As Lucius frowned, Narcissa smiled faintly. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, will it, Lucius? Proceed, Aurors.” And with that, they walked out.

It appeared that the elder Malfoys’ exit signalled the end of the meal as Draco and Snape both got up, too. “Good evening, Aurors,” Snape said as he sailed past Hermione. “Enjoy your...patrol.”

Harry sighed. “Why does everything that man says sound sarcastic?” he asked.

Hermione smiled. “Probably because it is. Come on, let’s set our shields then you can go to sleep. I’ll wake you at one a.m.”

“Good thing I’m by nature an insomniac, hm?” Harry drew his wand. “Right, let’s do this.”

They went to the foyer to start, and it took them about thirty minutes to determine that there was no way to set their own shields below the Malfoy Manor wards. They had planned on putting their barrier below the wards in order to conceal them from anyone who might check for extra wards, but one good look at the existing protections made them change their minds. “This is incredible,” Hermione said as they cast spell after diagnostic spell. “These have clearly been here for centuries. And I think all that time has made them seep into the very land and stones.”

Harry shook his head. “I know you’re loving this,” he said, “but as cool as it may be, it makes hiding our presence here a lot more difficult.”

“Sadly, yes. Unless--” Hermione pursed her lips. “I wonder if there’s a way to set the Malfoy wards to recognize ours as part of them?”

“Without being a member of the family?” Harry looked doubtful. “I wouldn’t think so.”

“It’s worth a try, though, isn’t it?”

“I suppose, just be careful. Wards are chancy things.”

Nodding, Hermione closed her eyes and extended her senses. During her training, she had been top of the class at shield infiltration, although, if she was reading these wards right, they would be her toughest challenge yet.

At first they reacted like standard shields, until _something_ probed Hermione’s Occlumency shields. There was a presence.

*Who are you?*

Gasping, Hermione opened her eyes, but only Harry was there. “Did you say something?” she asked him.

Harry shook his head. “No. Why?”

“I...don’t know.” Calming her breathing, Hermione again closed her eyes and began to test the wards.

*You are not Malfoy, yet you could be.*

Glancing over at Harry, she saw he was inspecting the landscape not looking at her at all. _Merlin, I think the wards are sentient!_

There was a sensation of grating, as if stones were rubbing together and for some reason it reminded Hermione of laughter, then... *What do you want?*

Somehow expecting that question, Hermione was now ready with a carefully framed answer. _The inhabitants of this home are in danger. We are here as protectors, and to do that we need to know if there is an attack. You are the first line of defence; we would like to add our own wards to yours._ There was a pause that sounded almost like wind echoing through a large chamber and then...

*No addition is needed. Be welcome.*

One moment Hermione felt normal and the next she found herself sensing every corner of the estate, wherever the wards encompassed. It was almost as if she was hovering above the estate, everything mapped out before her. She blinked and the sensation was gone; she was again on the ground, standing next to Harry, panting slightly to catch her breath.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, grabbing her arm.

She nodded. “I’m fine. That was just-- Goodness!”

“Did it work?”

“In a way. It wouldn’t let me add wards, but it’s given me access to the existing ones.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that...normal?”

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t think so, but it did. It knows that we’re both protectors. See if it’ll add you, too.”

Closing his eyes, Harry took a deep breath and immediately shook his head. “It said you’re the only one it’ll speak to, but--” He tilted his head, then smiled. “Apparently it will allow me access to some of its protections, though.”

“Oh?”

He grinned, opening his eyes. “Yes. It will let me track Malfoy and Snape.”

“It offered that?” Hermione scratched her head. “I really need to study these wards.”

“Something tells me it’s already studying us,” Harry muttered. “So that may be a good idea.” He yawned.

“Go to bed. I have first watch, remember?”

He nodded. “All right. I’ll be back at one.”

Once he was gone, Hermione leaned against the wall in the foyer and closed her eyes. With access to the wards, she could watch everywhere all at once. Suddenly, a soft pop alerted her and she drew her wand, pointing it at-- “Blinky?”

The elf didn’t even flinch with a wand in its face. “Master instructed Blinky bring Missy cake at this time,” it squeaked. In one hand was a large slice of chocolate cake and in the other was a tall, cold glass of milk. It looked delicious.

“Thank you,” she breathed, accepting the dish and the milk. Settling into a chair and placing her food on a convenient table, Hermione proceeded to devour it. It tasted even more superb than it looked, and more than once Hermione found herself moaning with the pleasure of it, glad that no one else was around.

She finished the cake down to the crumbs, not surprised when the dish and glass disappeared once she was done. Malfoy Manor struck her as being nothing if not efficient, for all that its owners had fallen on difficult times.

Stretching, she stood up and decided to resume her patrol. And this time I need to walk. _Too many late night pieces of cake won’t keep me in shape!_

By the time Harry found her, she had managed to map out the place fairly well. Of course, being connected to the wards didn’t hurt in keeping her oriented. She wouldn’t need Draco to walk her about the place any more, that was certain.

Patting Harry’s shoulder, she made her way back to their suite and fell asleep immediately.

~

“Mmm,” Hermione moaned, shifting. She could feel a hand moving over her hip, the curve of her stomach, and, unconsciously, she let her thighs fall open in wordless encouragement. Skilful fingers slid between her legs and she arched up, her hands clenching in the soft sheets. “Please,” she whispered. “It’s been so long...”

No one answered, yet somehow Hermione got the impression she had been heard. Teeth nipped at her jaw before skating over her neck and sinking lightly into the skin behind her right ear. She shuddered. Firm hands then spread her legs apart and she licked her lips, trembling in anticipation of the touch of either fingers or perhaps something else.

“Yes!” she hissed, arse moving off the bed in reaction to the unexpected feeling of a tongue on her moist flesh. “Oh God--”

That wicked tongue was relentless, knowing exactly where and how to suck, how much pressure to use, and, as she approached her climax, exactly how much to back off to keep her on the very edge of ecstasy.

Finally that mouth let her come, licking and sucking until she screamed, coming hard. “Oh, Lucius,” she gasped when she caught her breath.

A moment later, Hermione’s eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed. “Oh my God--” She looked around but she was alone, and gradually, her breathing approached normal. “Bloody hell.”

Burying her face in her hands, Hermione moaned. Why in Merlin’s name was she dreaming about Lucius Malfoy?

_Who said it was a dream?_ a treacherous voice in her head asked. _It didn’t feel like a dream._

With shaking fingers, Hermione checked herself, somehow not surprised to find she was wet. What the hell had just happened?

Reaching for her wand, she cast a spell to check the time, groaning to see it was only five a.m. Four hours of sleep was not nearly enough, she needed more, and yet, something told her she wasn’t about to fall asleep again.

With a sigh, she Summoned the book she had checked out of the library the day before and began to read. It was interesting, and before she knew it, daylight was slipping in under the drawn curtains at the window.

Breakfast at Malfoy Manor was served from seven to nine, and Hermione was the second one down at seven-thirty. Narcissa Malfoy had preceded her and was sipping tea, perusing the _Prophet_ when she walked into the dining room. She looked up as Hermione entered. “Good morning. Did you sleep well, Auror Granger?”

Hermione couldn’t help herself. She blushed. “I did, yes,” she said firmly, hoping Narcissa would ignore her high colour.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Breakfast was on the sideboard, and after helping herself to some eggs, toast, tomatoes, beans and ham, Hermione sat across from Narcissa. “This is delicious.”

Inclining her head, Narcissa smiled. “We are fortunate that food is not included in the Ministry decree,” she said. “Our circumstances would be far more difficult if that were the case.”

“Yes, I imagine it would,” Hermione agreed. “Is there any interesting news today?” she asked, eyeing the paper.

Narcissa sighed. “Is there ever, really?” she asked. Leaning forward, she said, “I despise this rag but I long ago came to the conclusion that it’s best to know what is being said in the public domain rather than be ignorant of any rumours.”

Hermione nodded. “I understand. It’s not my favourite newspaper either.”

“I doubt it’s anyone’s favourite,” Narcissa muttered, making Hermione bite back a chuckle. “Would you like to see today’s edition?”

When Hermione nodded, Narcissa folded the newspaper and passed it across to her. As she moved, the high collar of her blouse, visible above her robes, shifted, allowing Hermione a glimpse of the skin behind Narcissa’s right ear. Hermione gasped.

“Is something wrong?” Narcissa asked, a slight blush staining her cheeks when she noticed the direction Hermione’s eyes were looking. She adjusted her blouse and cleared her throat.

“Not at all.” Hermione tried to infuse as much sincerity in her tone as possible, but she couldn’t be sure that Narcissa bought it. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“I see.” Narcissa, the quintessential hostess, took her at her word and resumed her breakfast. As she chewed, her blouse slipped again, giving Hermione another chance to discreetly inspect the red spot on her neck. Something had made Hermione cast a Glamour on the mark that had appeared on her own neck earlier, and now she was glad she had.

Hermione looked away and pretended to read the paper, mind whirling. This was impossible. How and why would she and Narcissa Malfoy have matching love bites?

~

Mornings at Malfoy Manor turned out to be unexpectedly busy. If asked, Hermione couldn’t have said what she thought the Malfoys did all day except perhaps, in the case of Narcissa, host parties, arrange flowers, and maybe do some embroidery. Lucius, she assumed, was plotting world domination, and Draco... Well, suffice to say she never really contemplated _what_ Draco’s purpose was. He’d never struck her as the type to need any job other than that of being a feckless dandy. The truth turned out to be very different from anything she could have imagined, however.

“I’m going to the lab,” Severus announced as soon as he finished a sparse breakfast of tea and toast. Rising to his feet he gestured towards Draco who, to Hermione’s surprise, got up as well.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes. “If you must know, Potter, I’m going to the lab to work with Severus.”

“You two...work together?” Harry looked back and forth between them, clearly puzzled.

“As Draco just explained,” Snape said, tone dry. “I thought Aurors were supposed to pay attention?”

Hermione could see Harry take a deep, calming breath and bite back a retort. “What are you working on?” he asked after a pause.

“Why, is this an official Ministry inquiry?” Snape asked, arms crossed.

Another impending fight was interrupted by soft laughter. “Goodness me, Severus.” Narcissa shook her head. “Why are you so reluctant to just tell them what you’re doing? It’s good work. Tell them.”

To Hermione’s shock, Snape actually blushed. “Very well, if you insist. We are working on a formula to reverse the effects of the neurological effects of the Cruciatus Curse, Potter. As you know, it was the Dar--Voldemort’s favourite curse, he used it on victims and his followers indiscriminately and as often as possible.”

“He certainly did.” Narcissa shuddered and Hermione wondered what stories she could tell of the dark days when Voldemort inhabited these walls.

Snape cleared his throat. “Anyway, many people are suffering the after effects of prolonged exposure. Draco came up with the idea of a counter-potion and our research has yielded some encouraging preliminary results.”

“More than preliminary, I would say,” Lucius remarked as he sailed into the room. “The Healers at St. Mungo’s seem to think it’s very promising.”

Hermione, startled, watched with wide eyes as he greeted Narcissa with a kiss. She looked away quickly. _Nothing actually happened,_ she reminded herself firmly. _It was only a dream. Albeit a very erotic one--_

“Yes, well, there is yet more to research,” Snape mumbled, looking for all the world as if he was embarrassed by Lucius’ praise.

“Isn’t there always?” Lucius commented. He inclined his head towards Hermione and Harry. “Aurors.” To her horror, Hermione blushed hotly in reaction.

Narcissa had been watching her and a speculative look crossed her face. To Hermione’s relief, thought, she said nothing, pursing her lips and taking a sip of her tea.

“Anyway, we _are_ making progress,” Snape said, acknowledging Lucius’ comment. “But if we are to actually perfect this cure we need to keep working, so if you’ll excuse us--”

As they walked towards the door, Hermione noticed an odd look cross Harry’s face. “I think I’ll come with you,” he said, standing. “I should see this lab, make sure it’s secure.”

Snape rolled his eyes but made no verbal comment as Harry followed them. Left alone with the elder Malfoys, Hermione began to fidget.

“Did you rest well, Auror?” Lucius asked politely, sipping his tea.

Not yet prepared to actually have a conversation with him, especially given what had happened to her earlier that morning, Hermione nodded, staring at a point just to the left of him as she replied. “Yes, thank you.”

Lucius blinked, then turned to look behind him.

Clearing her throat, Narcissa came to the rescue. “So what are your plans today, dear?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“I’m consulting with the Unspeakables again.” When Hermione’s head snapped up, Lucius smirked. “Apparently you were unaware that I serve as a Dark Arts consultant to the Ministry? Anyway, they have more questions about some Dark artefacts they’ve detected recently.”

“That should be interesting.”

“Will you require an escort to the Ministry?” Hermione asked.

“No, the meeting is here, in my office.” Lucius smiled. “I appreciate the offer, however.”

“Shall I arrange for refreshments?” Narcissa asked.

“That’s not necessary. I do have a fully functional bar, after all.” Lucius took a sip of his tea. “And what are your plans today?” he asked, solicitous.

“The monthly meeting of the War Orphans Commission is convening here this afternoon.” Narcissa said, voice dry. “I’m of course...thrilled that they chose the Manor as a venue.”

“Apparently I chose a good day to be unavoidably busy with meetings,” Lucius remarked.

“You did,” Narcissa agreed. “But then, you always did have excellent timing, darling.”

“Well, I was taught by the best,” Lucius purred, leaning close.

They were all but devouring each other with their eyes and Hermione, feeling distinctly like a third wheel, coughed.

Lucius jumped. “Oh dear, I apologize, Auror Granger. I completely forgot that anyone else was here.”

“That’s all right.” Hermione was kicking herself. Of course the Malfoys were crazy in love. Why wouldn’t they be? Just because she felt drawn to them--

“No, it’s not.” Narcissa was frowning. “There’s just something about you that makes us both very...comfortable in your presence.” She tilted her head. “It’s quite interesting.”

“It is,” Lucius agreed. To Hermione’s shock, he reached across and took her hand. A spark went up her arm, warmth spreading in her centre. “ _Very_ interesting.”

Gasping, Hermione pulled her arm back. “I should go and do, er, another patrol,” she said. “Good day.”

All but running out of the dining room, Hermione shut the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily. What had just happened? Why was so she attracted to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy? “Merlin,” she whispered. “What am I going to do?”

~

What she did was avoid the Malfoys for most of the afternoon. After visiting Snape and Draco’s lab, she went outside, deciding to inspect the grounds. She’d never been an enthusiastic flyer in school but she was competent enough, so she took to the sky on a broom borrowed from the Malfoy collection and she circled the estate.

The air in her face cleared her head a bit and as she thought about it, she realised that she had first sensed something odd when she had forgiven Narcissa. Had something more happened than just a simple bit of politeness on her part? Circling back towards the Manor, she decided it was time she did some more research. The book Malfida the portrait had given her was good, but very basic. Now she needed details.

The War Orphans Commission was meeting in one of the upstairs parlours. Hermione bypassed the room, heading straight for the library. This time, Malfida didn’t engage her in conversation, perhaps sensing that she was in a hurry. After Hermione stated what she needed, several books floated off the shelves and presented themselves for her to look through. Hermione didn’t even take them out of the room, she simply piled them up onto one the large library tables and began taking notes.

Several hours into her reading, Blinky brought her a sandwich, some juice and another large slice of chocolate cake. She smiled, ate, and then went right back to researching.

What she read disturbed her, to say the least. “Bloody hell,” she breathed as she got to a passage that talked about bonds forged between people based on protection and forgiveness. Sitting back, she examined the facts in her mind. One: while not responsible for Hermione’s torture at the hands of her insane sister, Narcissa still bore some culpability. Two: by forgiving her, Hermione had apparently created a bond between them. Three: when she had placed the tracing spell on Narcissa it had added to that bond, transferring it from a temporary one to a permanent one with sexual overtones. Four: this explained the reaction of Malfida and the Malfoy wards, they now saw her as a true Malfoy. Five... _Fuck! That was no dream I had this morning, then. I’m somehow sharing sexual experiences with Narcissa and Lucius_.

She requested books on erotic bonds, and while Malfida raised an eyebrow, she did produce them without commenting verbally.

Feeling the beginning of a headache coming on, Hermione placed the new research book on the table and, taking a break, requested a light historical romance novel. One floated into her hands and she curled up in a chair to read it and clear her mind. This was an old study technique of hers, usually if she wanted to puzzle something out, she could read something mindless and it would come to her. She had a lot to think about at the moment.

While she read, the tracing spell she had placed on Narcissa hummed comfortably in the back of her mind as it had been for the past day or so. She could also sense the Manor’s wards pulsing, so when the felt a surge of fear come through both the wards and Narcissa, Hermione sprang to her feet, wand in hand.

She Apparated to Narcissa’s location, letting the pull of the spell guide her, and the scene was a horror. People were screaming, there was blood on the walls, and Narcissa was lying still on the carpet directly at Hermione’s feet. A woman was cackling madly in the corner, wand still in her hand. “Blood traitor!” she screamed. She focussed on Hermione for a moment, clearly confused.

“ _Incarcerous!_ ” Hermione snapped. The woman fell, wrapped in ropes.

“Cissy!” Lucius appeared at the entrance to the room and began running towards Narcissa and Hermione. Behind him were several grey-robed men, Unspeakables, presumably.

“Blinky!” Hermione screamed.

The elf popped in front of her. “Get a Healer now!”

Eyes wide, it nodded once and disappeared.

Hermione dropped to her knees and gathered Narcissa in her arms, resting her head in her lap. “Hold on,” she whispered. “Help’s coming.”

Someone, probably one of the Unspeakables, had thrown a shield up over the room. Hermione could feel the familiar touch of warding magic -- very similar to the wards that guarded the Ministry -- surrounding her, and it calmed her. “Narcissa, stay with us,” she said.

Just as Lucius got to them, Narcissa’s eyes opened. She coughed and blood flowed from her lips. Lucius dropped to his knees on her other side and began smoothing her hair back. “Cissy,” he whispered. “Merlin.”

She smiled and gasped, voice almost inaudible. “It’s all right, darling.”

Lucius lay his head next to hers. “No, it’s not,” he said, voice breaking. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’ve no choice.” Narcissa coughed again, more blood coming up. “It was an Organ Liquefaction Curse.”

Lucius lifted his head, shock registering on his face. “No. Cissy--”

“I’ve only moments left. I think the only reason I’m not dead now is Hermione. She’s donating her energy to me.”

Hermione blinked. Was that why she was feeling so exhausted? “I am?”

Lucius glanced up at Hermione. “How?” he asked.

“The bond brought us closer than any of us imagined it would.” Narcissa was gasping now, her normally pale skin practically translucent. “She’s now one of us, Lucius. Take care of each other.”

Suddenly Draco was there, kneeling in blood, clutching her hand. “Mum? Mummy?”

Hermione looked up to see Snape and Harry standing behind him. Her eyes met Harry’s and she pointed her chin to the corner where the suspect was lying tied up. He nodded and he and Snape, as one, walked over to her.

Narcissa smiled at Draco. “I love you,” she whispered, eyes locked on his for a moment. Then, looking up at Lucius, she sighed. “See you on the other side.”

Hermione could barely see she was crying so hard, but when several Apparation cracks sounded, her wand was pointing in the direction of the intruders before it occurred to her that they had actually called for Healers.

She tried to move but found it impossible as Narcissa was a dead weight.

“Hermione?” She looked up into Harry’s concerned face. Opening her mouth, she tried to reassure him that she was all right but nothing emerged. She was so tired... A moment later, the world went black.

~

“What do you mean she doesn’t remember?” Hermione growled, frustrated. “She cast the bloody spell.”

“She was under the Imperius Curse.” Harry’s voice reflected his own anger at the situation. “Several mind Healers have been called in and they all agree that her mind was all but destroyed by whoever Imperiused her. She barely remembers her name. All she knows is that she was forced to attend that War Orphans Committee meeting, and when given the opportunity, she was to curse Narcissa.”

“So we’re no closer to knowing who orchestrated the attack?”

“No.” Harry shifted in his chair. “The Unspeakables have gone over her memories and they can’t find anything, at least, not that they’re telling me.”

Hermione sighed and laid her head back on her pillow. No small part of her frustration in the situation was that she had been confined to bed herself after fainting. No one would tell her what was happening in the case and another Auror had been assigned to the Manor. “How’s Narcissa?” she asked, already knowing the answer from the pain she could feel along the bond they shared, but wanted to hear what Harry had to say.

Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t look good. The Healers put her in stasis as soon as they arrived but apparently her internal organs are continuing to liquefy.” He leaned forward and took her hand. “Everyone’s convinced it’s a miracle that she’s alive at all, and they all credit you.” His face hardened. “And I think Severus knows something.”

Hermione’s head popped back up. “ _Severus_?” Since when had Snape and Harry been on a first name basis?

Blushing, Harry waved his hand. “What? That’s his name. And he’s not so bad when he’s trying to save someone’s life. You should have seen him in the lab after they took Narcissa! He was phenomenal. He’s been brewing night and day trying to come up with a cure for her--”

She raised an eyebrow. “I see. All right, so now that we’ve established that _Severus_ is phenomenal, what do you think he knows?”

Harry glared at her, then sighed. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have. When one of the Healers mentioned what a horribly Dark spell the Organ Liquefaction Curse was, you should have seen his face.”

“Why, what did it look like?”

“It was as if he was seeing a ghost,” Harry said, voice sombre. “I think he knows who’s responsible.”

In that second, Hermione recalled the look on Lucius’ face at the mention of that spell. “You know, now that you mention it, I think Lucius may know something about that, too.”

“Oh?”

Hermione pursed her lips, trying to concentrate despite her headache. “Yes. It’s just the impression I got when Narcissa mentioned it...” Her eyes widened. “Come to think of it, how did _she_ know about it? I wonder--”

“What?” Harry was leaning forward now, hanging on every word. “You have great instincts, Hermione, spit it out.”

“We should interrogate both Lucius and Sn--Severus. I’m willing to bet this spell is the modus operandi of one of their old Death Eater associates and that’s why they recognised it.” Hermione tried to sit up and swing her legs out of bed, wincing as loud chimes sounded. A mediwitch bustled in seconds later.

“Auror Granger, what are you doing?” she scolded. “You know you’re not cleared to get out of bed yet. You Aurors will be the death of yourselves, I swear--”

Hermione sighed. “I really need to get out of here,” she said, for about the fifth time that day. “I have a job to do.”

“Not right now, you don’t.” She tucked Hermione’s blankets around her and waved her wand to renew the alarm charms. “You’re to stay here and be monitored for at least another day, Healer’s orders.”

Hermione glared at the mediwitch but said nothing until the woman had gone. “I can’t believe I’ve been replaced on my very first assignment,” she muttered.

“You haven’t been replaced.”

Both Hermione and Harry jumped as Kingsley walked into the room and pulled up a chair. He smiled as they stared at him.

“But I thought Harry had a new partner assigned to him,” Hermione said.

“Just temporarily until you’re back on your feet,” Kingsley replied. He steepled his fingers and regarded her for a long moment. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Granger.”

“Sir?”

Kingsley sighed. “I spoke with Lucius Malfoy after the incident at his home earlier. He says it could have been a lot worse and that you both acted quickly and decisively.”

Hermione smiled.

“Given the way this case is shaping up, I was actually preparing to offer you an assignment abroad for a couple of months,” he continued.

“What? But--” Hermione bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but she hated the thought of leaving the case at this point. _Not to mention Lucius._ She ignored that thought. “Of course, I’ll do whatever assignment you give me, sir,” she finally managed.

“Will you?” Kingsley held her gaze then shook his head. “I was considering moving you both, but I shan’t.”

Hermione cleared her throat and held his gaze, determined not to give him any reason to change his mind. Not until she worked out the details of what sort of bond she apparently had with the man through Narcissa, anyway. “I see.”

“Lucius Malfoy insists that you are the only one he’ll allow to continue the investigation.” Kingsley crossed his arms and leaned back, his long legs stretching out in front of him. “He has a lot of faith in you.”

“And Harry?”

Kingsley glanced at Harry. “Lucius did not make Harry’s continued involvement in this case a requirement, but he did insist on you. Snape, on the other hand, insisted on Harry.”

Harry flushed, cleared his throat, and looked away. “I hope you both know what you’re doing,” Kingsley sighed. “Very well, keep your secrets. I suppose it doesn’t matter as long as you’re doing the job, which you appear to be.” He stood up. “I look forward to both of your reports when this is all over.”

Harry groaned as he walked out. “I don’t look forward to writing it, though.”

Hermione smiled. On that they both agreed.

~

Narcissa Malfoy died early the next morning. Hermione knew the second it happened; she woke up from a deep sleep, the aching and soreness she’d been experiencing ever since being brought to the hospital, gone. She stretched, feeling normal, and then she realised what she wasn’t sensing. The warm hum that she had associated with ‘Narcissa’ in the back of her mind was silent.

“Well, you look much better today.” The mediwitch who had been keeping her confined in bed all night walked in. She seemed subdued and Hermione wondered if Narcissa had been under her care as well.

“I feel much better, thanks.” Experimentally, Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The alarm didn’t go off and she exhaled. “When can I be discharged?”

“That’s up to the Healers, my dear, but I expect it’ll be soon. There’s been a death, you see, and we’re still dealing with that.”

Hermione nodded, reaching for her clothes. “Was it--” she hesitated, “Narcissa Malfoy by any chance?”

The woman sighed and nodded, dabbing at her eyes. “Such a shame. I never thought she was evil, you know. Lucius Malfoy, however--”

“What about him?” Hermione asked, voice cool as she finished fastening her robes.

The mediwitch blinked. “Well I’m sure you know more about it than I do, dear, being an Auror and all.”

Hermione didn’t reply, and the woman appeared to take that as encouragement to continue. “He got away with a lot, didn’t he? And he was never even punished for his crimes, living up there in that gigantic house with those peacocks. Imagine! Peacocks.”

“There aren’t any peacocks anymore,” Hermione interjected.

The mediwitch waved her hands as if dismissing that argument. “Be that as it may, the Malfoys have always lorded it over everyone else. And now I heard they’re trying to say that he was on our side, innocent all along--”

“Oh, I doubt anyone ever said _that_ exactly,” Hermione murmured dryly.

“Certainly not within my hearing, anyway,” an equally dry voice chimed in from the doorway.

The mediwitch turned an interesting shade of puce before stammering, “Oh! Oh my... I can tell y-you’re anxious to go, Auror, I’ll just see to the paperwork, shall I?” At Hermione’s nod she muttered something incomprehensible and slid past Lucius.

Hermione barely noticed, staring as she was at Lucius. “I’m so sorry about Narcissa,” she said hesitantly.

Lucius inclined his head. “I should thank you for giving Draco and me some extra time with her.”

“I...” She spread her hands. “I didn’t know I could, actually.”

He narrowed his eyes, sending her a searching look. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t have,” he finally said. “Although it was probably just a matter of time before you’re an expert. Malfida tells me that you’ve been doing some research.”

_Oh fuck!_ She had left the books on erotic bonding out in the library! Blushing, she nodded.

“She wouldn’t specify which books you’ve read, however,” he continued, voice silky. “Another...interesting development. She would not normally protect a non-family member.”

“Protect?” Hermione cleared her throat. “Do you think I was reading suspicious material?”

“There are many books in that library that are, shall we say, delicate?” Lucius smiled. “I’m sure that someone as fond of knowledge as you are can appreciate knowledge for its own sake, however.”

_Now I really need to get back in that library._ “I’m very fond of libraries and knowledge, yes.”

He smirked. “As I have heard.” Straightening up, he said, “Have you been released? Are you returning to the Manor?”

“I think the mediwitch has paperwork for me, but I’m not inclined to wait, so yes, I should like to return. I’m sure the Unspeakables have been over everything and yet--”

“Yet you would like to do your own investigating.” He nodded as if answering an internal question. “I knew I’d chosen the right Auror for the job.” Holding out his arm, he said, “Shall we go?”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” she asked. “You look...tired.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Dear me. Has my Glamour failed?” Walking over, he glanced in the mirror. “No, it appears to be intact.” He turned to stare at her. “So it’s true.”

“What is?”

“You’ve somehow become a true Malfoy. Only a member of the family could see through this Glamour.”

Hermione wondered if she could see through his masks, too. “Do you know who killed Narcissa?” she asked, watching his reaction closely.

Lucius hesitated. “I...may have an idea, but it’s impossible for me to discuss.”

“What? Why?” Hermione moved closer. “If you know who it could be you should say something so we can try to track them--”

Holding up a hand, Lucius interrupted her. “I thought this person had...died.” He glanced towards the open door. “And I’d rather not discuss anything more in public, if you don’t mind.”

Hermione gnawed on her bottom lip. He seemed so...calm for someone who had just lost his wife. The wife that she knew first hand he had adored. “Shall I do a Side-Along, then?” she offered. “That way we can discuss it in private.”

“Are you well enough?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine. Shall we?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Very well,” he finally said. “Proceed.”

Grasping his arm, she concentrated, and just as she felt the squeeze of Apparation overtake her, she spotted the shocked face of the mediwitch as she came back into the room, a sheaf of papers in her hands. Closing her eyes, Hermione focussed on transporting them safely to the Manor.

~

Upon landing in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, Lucius shook her off and backed away.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, startled by the look on his face. “Are you all right? Were you Splinched?”

“You should not have been able to do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Apparate through the Malfoy wards. That is supposed to be impossible for anyone but those who the wards recognise as--” He paused.

“Family?” Hermione sighed. “I need to do some research and you need to rest.”

“Rest?” Lucius laughed bitterly. “I need to find the fucking bastard who killed my wife with a curse that I thought up.”

Hermione’s mouth fell open. “You thought up?”

Lucius seemed to deflate in front of her. Collapsing onto one of the gilt benches that lined the foyer, he sighed. “You must understand, the Dark Lord revered creativity. The more horrible the curse, the better. I suppose it was his way of encouraging the more...sadistic in the organization to flourish.”

“Explaining why Bellatrix did so well?” Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth.

Lucius, however, far from being insulted, nodded. “She was very...imaginative, yes. There were some of us, Severus included, who thought of many things we could do to our enemies, but early in the process we decided that for every Dark curse we invented we could create a counter-curse. Severus had a bad experience early in his life that...scarred him, and he persuaded me that approach was best.

“We agreed, Narcissa and I. We told no one of course; that would hardly have gone unpunished.”

“So you created the Organ Liquefaction Curse?”

He nodded. “I did. And I showed three people how to do it. Then I worked night and day to come up with a counter-curse, only there wasn’t one. Severus couldn’t find one either, and finally we gave up. It tended to kill people too fast for the Dark Lord anyway. He already had the Killing Curse for that, he wanted slow, torturous deaths for his enemies.”

“Who did you share it with?” Hermione asked softly.

“Bellatrix, Severus, and the Dark Lord. I told Narcissa the incantation but not the wand motion, just enough that she would know to get away if anyone tried it on her.”

“But that’s impossible. Voldemort and Bellatrix are dead, and we know Severus would never--”

“Would never what?” a smooth voice asked from behind them.

“Use the curse that killed Narcissa,” Lucius said, looking over Hermione’s shoulder at Severus.

“Indeed. Well I suppose I shall have to provide an alibi,” Snape said. “I was with Potter and Draco at the time of the attack, they can vouch for my presence in the lab, but that, of course, proves nothing.”

“You’re hardly a suspect, Snape,” Hermione snapped. “If you are, then Lucius is, too.”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better,” Lucius muttered.

“And we know Bellatrix is dead,” Hermione continued, ignoring him.

“Do we?” Harry asked, walking in behind Snape. “I mean we saw her die, yes, but we know Voldemort had that bad habit of returning from ‘death’ until we dealt with all his Horcruxes, so--”

“You think Bellatrix created a Horcrux for herself?” Lucius’ eyes widened.

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Snape said. “But if she did, how do we find what or who she has become?”

Snape’s and Lucius’ eyes met and held. Hermione, suspicious, looked back and forth between them. “What is it?”

“Bellatrix died, but her husband lived,” Snape said slowly.

“He’s in Azkaban,” Harry said. “We know he’s there; no one’s broken out recently, we would have heard.”

“What if he’s no longer him?” Hermione asked. “What if he’s now Bellatrix, and she’s orchestrating these Death Eater attacks from prison?”

“There’s no way to know, is there?” Harry asked, eyes solely focussed on Snape. Hermione mentally reminded herself to call him Severus since it looked as if she’d be seeing a lot of him even after this case was over.

“Legilimency,” Severus and Hermione said simultaneously.

Hermione smiled. “Someone who has been inside her mind before will have to do it, though. I don’t know if I could recognise her mind pattern since I’m not familiar with it.”

Harry coughed and they all looked at him. “Didn’t she use Legilimency on you when she held you captive here, Hermione?” he asked gently. At her slow nod, he continued. “Surely that means you would recognise the touch of her mind?”

“I...” Hermione thought about that for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I would at that.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “Then I suppose I’d best go and see if I can arrange an interview with Rodolphus Lestrange.”

“Absolutely not! It’s far too dangerous.” Lucius was back on his feet, standing over her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m an Auror. It’s not too dangerous; it’s what I do.”

“And since when has Auror Granger’s health and well-being taken precedence over locating Narcissa’s killer, Lucius?” Severus asked pointedly.

“Since I...since she...we...” Lucius sputtered for a moment. “Since she is a guest in our...my home, Severus,” he continued more normally. “I would demonstrate the same concern for anyone about to embark on such a dangerous task as that of rooting around in what could be Bellatrix Lestrange’s mind.”

“Indeed, then I stand corrected. That’s quite noble of you, Lucius.” Severus spun on his heel, his robes flaring out behind him. “It is late, however. Perhaps a meal before you go, Auror?”

Lucius nodded. “An excellent suggestion,” he said, moving past Hermione and towards the dining room. “It should be time for dinner. Where’s Draco?”

“He’s asleep,” Harry said. “He-- I can take him something.”

Both of Lucius’ eyebrows went up. “We do have a house-elf, Auror Potter,” he said. “I believe that is a task better suited for it, don’t you?”

Harry blushed and Hermione did a recalculation in her head. _I’m going to have to be nice to Draco Malfoy, too?_ She hadn’t thought Harry would be quite _that_ exotic in his love life, but, considering what a combination of Severus and Draco could do to a man... She smiled, pleased for him. “Congratulations,” she whispered as she walked past him on the way to dinner.

He shot her a confused look. _He doesn’t even know yet? Oh dear._ She almost envied him the moment of discovery until her eyes caught Lucius’ and then she realised she had her own slippery snake to deal with. It was such a fortunate thing that she’d been top of the class in hand-to-hand combat.

~

Dinner was subdued. Narcissa’s chair seemed to mock them all.

Lucius drank copious amounts of wine and said nothing unless spoken to first. Draco actually tolerated Harry being solicitous, well, until he offered to go flying with him at which point Draco blew up, told Harry to piss off, and stormed from the room.

Hermione listened to them shouting outside in the hallway, and when the yelling abruptly stopped to be replaced by suspicious silence, Severus smirked and excused himself.

“We had best allow them a few minutes before we go out,” Lucius said, watching her as if expecting an explosion.

She nodded. “That would be best,” she agreed, sipping her own wine calmly.

After a pause, he lifted his glass in a salute. “I wasn’t aware that you knew.”

Shrugging, Hermione met his gaze squarely. “And I wasn’t aware _you_ knew.”

Lucius chuckled, and after knocking back his drink, he stood up. “I believe it’s safe now,” he said. “May I escort you upstairs?”

“I’m not going upstairs,” she reminded him. “I’m going to Azkaban to--” Hermione shook her head and yawned. “To--”

Lucius smirked. “You are going nowhere tonight, Hermione. You are going to bed, and Severus and I shall handle this.”

“You drugged me...” Hermione was fighting to keep her eyes open. “You can’t go to Az--”

“Yes we can.” Lucius helped her out of the chair, all but carrying her to the door. “You have quite the constitution, don’t you? I gave you enough Dreamless Sleep that you should be out by now.”

“You...can’t do...this!” she argued.

“Actually I can.” Lucius sounded frustratingly sober, and a dim part of Hermione’s mind realised he had probably slipped himself a Sobering Potion before dinner. “As soon as Severus is done...tucking Potter and Draco in, we’ll be off.”

Hermione opened her mouth but the darkness dragged her under. _I am going to kill him!_ was her last thought before she knew no more.

~

“Hermione! Hermione!”

Hermione groaned and tried to throw whoever was attacking her off.

“Wake up! They’re in danger!”

“Wha--?” Hermione pried an eye open to see Harry sitting on her bed. She sat up and immediately pulled the sheet to her chest upon realising she was naked but for bra and knickers. “What’s going on?”

“We should ask you that,” Draco said from the other side of her bed.

Hermione, having not seen him there, squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing in here?” She glared accusingly at Harry. “What is he doing here?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’re not upset that Potter saw them but you’re worried about me?” He rolled his eyes. “Trust me, Granger, breasts are not my thing.”

“Shut. Up,” she snapped. “Now what is going on, and where is Lucius?”

“See? I knew she’d get up to speed fast.” Draco was studying his nails nonchalantly, and Hermione narrowed her eyes, sending a non-verbal Stinging Hex at him. He jumped.

“What the fuck--?”

“Draco, please shut up.” Harry looked worried and Hermione immediately forgot her irritation.

“What is it?” she asked. A moment later she sucked in a breath as her memories flooded back and she remembered what Lucius had done. “That bastard,” she breathed, her tone almost admiring. “He gave me Dreamless Sleep in the wine! How did you wake me up?”

Draco held up a vial. “Severus created an inhaled counter to Dreamless Sleep last year.”

Hermione began to get up then glared at Draco. “Turn around.”

“Oh please.” He shook his head and made a show of turning his back while she Summoned her clothes and slipped them on. She refused to consider how she had ended up semi-naked in the first place. At least her underwear had been one of her better sets.

“Are they in Azkaban already?” she asked Harry once she had her Auror robes on.

“Probably.”

“You haven’t Flooed ahead?”

“Lucius blocked all communications. Everything is warded shut.”

Hermione shook her head. “Clever bastard,” she muttered again.

“Quit that sexy talk, you minx, you’re making me hot,” Draco drawled.

“Why didn’t you make _him_ open them?” she asked, pointing her chin at Draco. “He has access.”

“Apparently not.” Draco crossed his arms. “Father knew I’d be putty in Potter’s hands; hey, that’s actually poetic--”

“Draco, please focus,” Harry snapped.

Draco huffed. “Yes, all right. It seems that while I am a Malfoy, I am not master of the wards, Father is, and he’s told them to keep everyone that’s in from leaving and to keep everyone but him and Severus out.”

“Wonderful.” Hermione sighed. “So we have to try to break down the wards? Fabulous.”

“But they like you,” Harry reminded her. “In fact, they may think of you as a master of the wards, too.”

“They--” Hermione smiled. “You could be right. Hang on.” Closing her eyes, she settled into a light trance.

*Welcome back.*

_Thank you,_ Hermione thought carefully. _We need to get out._

*The master says nothing is in or out.*

_Who is the master?_

There was a pause, and then-- *The other.*

_Is there more than one master?_

*Yes, there are two masters.*

Hermione had counted on this. She played her hand. _I believe I’ve replaced one master. The other master needs us. Let us go to him, please._

The sensation of echoing silence enveloped her and then she got her answer. *Yes.*

Snapping her eyes open, she grabbed Harry’s and Draco’s arms. “Come on, let’s go before they change their minds.”

“So it worked--?” Draco’s voice cut off as the Side-Along-Apparation dragged them away.

They landed in the courtyard at Azkaban. Hermione lit her wand before anyone could mistake them for intruders. “We’re Aurors!” she cried, holding up the light to her face. “Don’t hex us!”

Harry turned to Draco. “Stay here, we’ll go and--”

Draco shook his head. “Fuck that. That’s my father and my lover up there, I’m going, too.”

“Draco.” Harry took his face in his hands. “That’s _my_ lover up there, too. I can’t be worrying about the two of you--”

“Sod that.” Draco leaned in and snogged Harry fiercely, then broke away. “I’m going, with or without you. Now what are we waiting for?” he called over his shoulder.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Fine. Can we just get up there, please? God knows what’s happening.”

They raced up the cell block, Hermione explaining the situation to one of the Auror guards as they went. Lucius and Severus had shown up about an hour before with official looking parchments that gave them access to the prisoner. No one had blinked when they had requested a private interrogation room.

When they got to the room there were supposed to be in, however, no one was there.

“Where are they?” Draco cried. “How can you people have lost them? Isn’t this supposed to be a prison? Isn’t that what you people do, keep track of prisoners?”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry and Hermione chorused.

“There must be a way to track them.” Hermione pursed her lips. “If only Severus had let you put that tracing spell on him--”

Harry’s eyes widened. “But he did!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Trace them through that,” she said, impatient.

A moment later Harry had it and he was dragging them through the prison. “Bloody Anti-Apparation wards,” Harry panted as they ran.

Hermione refrained from mentioning the fact that they were in a prison, and that such wards were probably a good idea there. She shared Harry’s anxiety, after all. Her soon-to-be-lover (as soon as she informed him of that fact) was out there, and for all she knew Bellatrix Lestrange’s evil Horcrux had taken over his body by now.

They skidded to a stop in front of room. “Here, I think,” Harry said, and he had it open in about two seconds. He accomplished this with the expeditious method of blasting it open.

“What about _Alohomora_?” Draco stage whispered.

Hermione shrugged, she was fine with it. “Lucius?”

Harry, Draco and Hermione stared with disbelief at the tableau facing them. Lucius and Severus had Rodolphus Lestrange on the floor, Lucius was straddling him, hands wrapped around his neck, and Severus was staring into Rodolphus’ eyes.

“You took rather longer than I thought you would,” Lucius said casually. “Did the wards argue with you?”

“Not in any meaningful way, no,” Hermione said. She moved closer. “You really ought to let him go so we can put him back in his cell.”

“Severus isn’t done yet.” Lucius’ eyes hardened. “He denied it, of course, but his facade cracked soon enough.”

“That’s Bellatrix?” Harry and Hermione’s wands both swung to Rodolphus’ head.

“No.”

“Then what?”

Severus exhaled and moved back, blinking. Rodolphus began to struggle and Lucius simply tightened his grip around his windpipe until he stopped. Rodolphus’ eyes began to bulge.

“If you kill him,” Hermione said evenly, “you may end up in here in place of him.”

“It could be worth it,” Lucius gritted out.

“Or we could track down Rabastan, who, according to Rod’s memories, is the true mastermind behind the recent attacks, including Narcissa’s,” Severus interjected, looking up from Rodolphus. “I use the term ‘mastermind’ loosely, of course.”

“Rabastan?” Lucius said. One finger loosened its hold on Rodolphus’ windpipe.

Severus shrugged and, beginning to stand, blinked as both Draco and Harry rushed to help him. “Then I suppose you can kill him now and then _we’ll_ track Rabastan down,” he said, the two men tucked under his arms. “Are there any messages you’d like us to deliver?”

“Bloody, smug bastard,” Lucius said without heat. He released Rodolphus’ throat, rising smoothly to his feet. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”

Hermione crossed her arms. “And why should I allow you to go anywhere?” she asked. “You drugged me and left me trapped in your home. That is a grave Ministerial offence.”

Lucius sighed. “Severus said you’d react this way.” He licked his lips. “For what it’s worth, I apologise for that, but I’ve just lost my wife and I didn’t relish losing anyone else I...care about.”

Hermione blushed.

“Oi! They attacked me,” Rodolphus groaned from the floor at Lucius’ feet. “I have rights--”

“Shut up,” Hermione said, voice frigid as she glanced toward him. “One more word out of you tonight I’ll grant Lucius here another unsupervised visit, understood?”

Rodolphus’ eyes widened and he nodded frantically.

“Good.” She glared at Lucius. “Fine, but you ever do that again and I’ll bury you so deep in this prison that the guards won’t be able to find you, nice arse or not.”

Lucius smirked. “You think I’ve a nice arse?”

“Oh my God, if the two of you start snogging I think I’ll hurl,” Draco groaned.

“Shut up, Draco!” Severus, Harry, Hermione and Lucius said.

Draco huffed. “Fine, but while we stand here, Uncle Rab could be getting away. He has to know we’d have tracked Roddy down by now.”

“Good point.” Hermione swung on her heel. “Get him back to a cell, please,” she said to the guard, pointing at Rodolphus. “Severus, where are we going?”

Severus smiled. “Interestingly enough, Wiltshire.”

~

“I still think it should be just us,” Harry whispered to Hermione as they crept through the undergrowth.

“I suppose we could have tied them up and left them behind,” Hermione muttered back. “How would we have got Rabastan’s location out of Severus, though?”

“Point.” Harry glanced behind to the others who were bringing up the rear. “It just makes me nervous. They say you’re supposed avoid placing innocent bystanders in harm’s way--”

“Innocent?” Hermione glanced over at him.

He blushed. “Er--”

“What is it about Slytherins?” Hermione wondered aloud. “Here we are, two Gryffindor Aurors and we’re involved with snakes.”

“They keep us on our toes?” Harry suggested.

She smiled. “Could be.” Spotting something ahead, she placed a hand on his arm. “Did you see that?”

Harry nodded. Gesturing for everyone to be quiet, he led the way forward. He pointed for Hermione to circle towards the other side and she nodded.

It was all going well until Draco stumbled over a root. He caught himself by grabbing a convenient, low-hanging branch.

Hermione, who had glanced back to see what the commotion was, gasped as he disappeared with a loud crack.

“Draco?” Harry started towards the spot where Draco had just been standing.

“Booby trap,” Severus spat. “Who makes a Portkey out of a tree branch?”

“Paranoid madmen, apparently,” Lucius replied, grim.

“And now they know we’re here.” Hermione looked back towards the direction she’d seen lights. “Harry, can you track him?”

Harry, frowning in concentration, nodded. “I have him,” he said. “Take my hand.”

They all linked fingers, and seconds later they were standing in a shoddy hut. Harry had pulled away just before they’d landed, and Hermione began to look for him, frowning at his sudden absence. The hex that came at them distracted her, however. It sizzled as it hit the shield she hastily threw up.

The breath caught in Hermione’s throat as she spotted Draco’s crumpled form on the filthy floor, Rabastan Lestrange standing over him. “Come any closer and I’ll kill him,” he said, staring at Lucius.

“Do that and you die,” Lucius grated.

Rabastan shrugged. “Your Mudblood Auror and Severus the half-blood will take care of that anyway.”

“Yes, we will,” Severus assured him. “If you return Draco unharmed, however--”

“You’ll what? Let me live?” Rabastan cackled, and Hermione could hear the edge of madness tingeing the sound. “I don’t want to live, I just needed to avenge Bella and my brother. It’s not right that you should have your family and your home while Rod and I are prisoners and Bella rots in the ground.”

“You killed Narcissa,” Lucius bit out. “And for that, there’s nowhere you can hide.”

“I can hide in death,” Rabastan said, grinning maniacally. He pointed his wand at Draco. “And I can take your son with me! _Avada--_ ”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry’s voice came from behind Rabastan, who was thrown against the wall by the force of the Disarming spell. His wand flew up into the air where it remained suspended. Seconds later, Harry appeared out of thin air, tucking his Invisibility Cloak into his robes. “Isn’t it lucky that I never leave home without the Deathly Hallows?” he quipped.

As Hermione rolled her eyes, Severus cast a Body-Bind on Rabastan, and Hermione, eyebrow raised, cast another. “Just to be sure,” she murmured as she walked past him. Standing at the window, she concentrated, and when her otter Patronus appeared in front of her, she sent it for reinforcements.

“I’m fine,” Draco groaned from the floor, rubbing his head. “Thanks for asking.”

“Were you awake all the time?” Harry asked, tucking Rabastan’s wand in his pocket before kneeling next to Draco.

“Pretty much. He knocked me out when I got here and I just stayed where I was to not provoke him.”

Lucius was advancing on Rabastan, murder in his eyes. Hermione stepped in front of him. “He’s going to Azkaban,” she said. “He’ll be punished, I promise.”

“Narcissa is still dead,” he ground out. “He’s alive and she’s dead. Azkaban isn’t punishment enough for that.”

“And killing him here will only ensure that you end up in jail with Rodolphus.” Hermione placed a hand on his chest. “Would Narcissa want that?”

Lucius closed his eyes. “You’re a lot like her, you know,” he said. “She and I made a good team, and something tells me you and I would as well.”

Hermione frowned. “I’m not her replacement.”

Just then, multiple Apparation cracks sounded and there were ten Aurors in the tiny shack. Kingsley spotted her and walked over. “Rabastan Lestrange? Very good, Granger, Potter. We’ve been tracking him for ages.”

After she filled Kingsley in and promised to have her report to him in a day or so, Hermione pondered her situation. The case was over, so now what?

“You haven’t asked for my advice, but I feel compelled to say this.”

Surprised, she looked up at Severus, who had detached himself from Harry and Draco and was standing next to her, watching her carefully. “Go ahead.”

He inclined his head. “No one could recover from the death of their wife in only two days, you realise? Lucius may seem fine, but he is a master of hiding his emotions. And Draco is his father’s son, they are both in pain.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ve come to the same conclusion, actually.” She sighed. “I only really knew Narcissa for a short time and _I’m_ having a hard time coping with her death. I can’t imagine what Lucius and Draco have to be going though.”

“It will be difficult for a while,” Severus murmured.

Looking over at Lucius, who was talking calmly with Harry and Draco, Hermione suddenly knew what she had to do. “At least you can offer Draco comfort,” she muttered.

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t offer Lucius comfort,” Severus said. “I would just be careful. He’s...delicate just now.”

“I know.” And she did. Much as she hated it, Hermione knew what she had to do. “Excuse me.” Walking over to Kingsley, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Is that post abroad still available, sir?”

As Kingsley delightedly confirmed that yes, it was, she looked over at Lucius for what she knew would be the last time in a long time. “Then I accept,” she said, smiling as he clapped her on the back. Some time away would be just the thing, so why did it feel as if she was dying, too?

~

The Ministero Italiano di Magia was, in a word, nothing like the one in England. For one thing, no one got to work before ten, nor did they stay beyond three, so Hermione quickly learned to adjust her hours. It gave her plenty of time to explore, to go shopping and to learn Italian cooking.

It was a plum assignment by almost any criteria, and Hermione supposed she should be immensely grateful for the opportunity, but more often than not she found herself wishing she was back in England, at the Manor, arguing with Lucius and requesting books from Malfida.

Lucius sent flowers every week, which Hermione put out in her tiny, Ministry-provided flat, and they always cheered the place up. He didn’t write, but then, she hadn’t expected him to.

Harry visited a couple of times, and once Draco and Severus had even come along. She had taken them to some of her favourite places for dinner and it had felt like a holiday, at least until she’d thought of Lucius mourning in his enormous house all by himself.

She’d written him several letters, all of which she’d destroyed once complete. Finally, she sent her Patronus with a simple message: when you can think of her without pain, call me. That had been five months ago. He hadn’t replied, but the flowers kept coming.

She heard about him in the news occasionally, and she tried not to be obvious about asking Harry for word. His relationship with Draco and Severus had heated up, and when he’d Flood to tell her that they had moved into Grimmauld Place with him, she’d smiled, wished them the best, and started making plans to move out.

One day, after a perfectly pleasant day at the Italian Ministry, she arrived home to find someone waiting for her. “Ron?”

He smiled and immediately she knew he was fine. “Hullo. Still talking to me?” he asked.

She grinned and pulled him into a hug. “Of course. And I should ask you that. I was horrible.”

They went out to dinner and over carbonara and a bottle of Chianti, he filled her in on his life. “So I apparently know enough about dragons now that they’ve approached me about taking over Charlie’s spot.”

“That’s great for you, but what’s Charlie going to do?” Hermione asked.

“He’s been asked to start a new reserve in Wales.” Ron chuckled. “It’s the chance of a lifetime. He’s thrilled.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Ron swirled the wine in his glass. “And I have one more bit of news,” he said, clearly hesitant. “I’m, er, getting married.”

“Oh, Ron, that’s brilliant!” Reaching across the table, she hugged him again, smiling when he exhaled. “Tell me about her.”

By the time they finished the bottle of wine and started another, it was as if the intervening year and a half hadn’t happened and they were back to being best friends. “So what about you?” Ron asked. “Meet anyone special?”

Hermione opened her mouth to say no, and found herself spilling the entire Lucius story. “But now I have no idea where we stand now,” she finished.

Ron leaned back and stared at her.

“What?”

He shook his head. “You’re over-thinking it. Do you love him?”

She blushed. “Well, I have a lot of respect for him, he’s--”

He held up a hand. “That wasn’t the question. If he showed up here and dropped down on one knee and asked you to marry him, would you?”

“Fuck,” she whispered.

He smiled. “You may want to accept the proposal first, but I can’t fault your instincts.”

She groaned, smacking his arm. “And when did you become so smart?”

Pouring her another glass of wine, he said, “When I thought about what happened with us. You taught me well, ’Mione, even if I was acting bit thick at the time.’”

Leaning her head on the table, Hermione sighed. “Now I think I need the lessons.”

Ron’s large hand covered hers. “I was really angry at you when you said no to my proposal,” he said. “But deep down I knew you were right. We weren’t meant to be together as more than just friends, but it was hard to accept. But you weren’t afraid to tell me no. So why are you afraid to tell him yes?”

Her head snapped up. “I’m not. His wife died, though. I can’t just show up and say ‘Right, I’m here, are you over your dead wife yet?’. _He_ has to make that decision.”

“How do you know he hasn’t already made it?” Ron asked. “To know that I think you’d have to be there. Unless this is where you plan to live forever.”

She sighed. “Time to go home.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I think so.”

The next day she contacted Kingsley. His response, which was ‘about time’, reassured her it was the right decision. By the end of the week they were throwing her a goodbye party at the Ministero Italiano and she was taking the international Floo back to England.

Harry wouldn’t hear of her staying anywhere but with him until she found herself a flat, so she agreed, managing to avoid Draco and Severus for the most part.

Her first day back in her office, she walked in to find the place buried in flowers. Bemused, she absently caressed the leaves of an orchid as she stared at the explosion of colour. “I guess he knows I’m back,” she muttered under her breath.

“He does,” came a voice from the corner. “This is because he’s a Slytherin, and he has informants everywhere.”

“And he’s very resourceful,” Hermione added, stepping forward.

Lucius stepped out of the shadows and inclined his head. He looked...healed. Hermione released the breath she’d been holding.

“Many times over the past few months I almost sent you a message demanding that you return,” he said. “But you’ve never struck me as they type to respond well to demands.”

She smiled. “Requests generally go a long way with me.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“You’ve been keeping the florists busy.”

He shrugged and she struggled not to follow the ripple of muscle she could see moving beneath his superbly cut robes. God he looked good. “It’s what I know,” he replied, gliding closer. “Although something tells me you respond to slightly different stimuli than other women.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you plott--?”

“Auror Granger?”

She spun, blinking when she saw who was there. “Unspeakable,...Smith. Hello.”

He smiled. “Welcome back. I understand you did good work in Italy.”

“Thank you.” What did he know about what she’d done in Italy?

“Unspeakables are everywhere, Auror,” Smith said gently, as if he knew what she’d been thinking. “Have you had a chance to think about what we discussed last year?”

“I have.” Hermione glanced towards Lucius before saying, “I would love the opportunity to try out for the Unspeakables. I know I have at least four months before I qualify--”

Smith waved his hand. “As I told you before, rules can be bent.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel right about that. I’ll wait until the proper time and I’ll send my application in then.”

“You should have known she would pass that test easily enough, Edgar,” Lucius commented. “She is a Gryffindor, after all.”

Smith inclined his head. “As you say, Mr. Malfoy. And you are right. Congratulations, Auror. You passed the last test. As guardians of the mysteries of magic, it is imperative that Unspeakable realise early that the rules apply to everyone equally, even themselves. I’ll look for your application on my desk in four months.”

Hermione shook her head as he walked away. Was everything a test with that man?

“I am always gratified to be proven correct,” Lucius murmured from directly behind her. It took everything Hermione had not to jump.

“Oh? How’s that?” she asked, still staring at the door.

“I told him you wouldn’t accept any special favours. It’s not in your nature.”

“And do you think you know everything that’s in my nature?” Hermione asked, turning to find him _right there._ Her breath caught.

“Well, I admit I don’t know everything,” he whispered, curling an escaped lock of her hair around his finger. “But I plan to devote a lot of time to finding out all that I can.” He leaned forward, and she welcomed him.

Their first kiss, Hermione thought hazily, was certainly promising. Lucius’ mouth opened over hers, his tongue sliding against hers and promising countless and untold pleasures, his hands moulding her to his body, fingers splayed so that she was firmly pressed against him, able to feel him through his robes. When he pulled away, she was breathing hard, and when he delivered a sharp nip to her swollen lower lip, her breath hitched. “You’re certainly a quick study,” she gasped.

“Thank you.”

She smiled at the breathless quality of his reply, relieved that he was not as unaffected as he looked. “I do believe in encouraging research,” she murmured.

He laughed, sliding his hands down to clasp both of hers. “Shall I have Blinky prepare dinner for two this evening, then?”

“I only just got back from Italy; I’ve barely had time to unpack,” she said.

“Good. It’s hardly efficient use of your time to unpack and then have to pack again, is it?”

“You’re very confident, aren’t you?”

“That is a rhetorical question, I presume.” The Malfoy arrogance was back and, delighted, she grinned. This was the Lucius she had been attracted to. She spared one last thought for Narcissa, whom she suspected it would have been a pleasure to know better as well, and she nodded.

“It was.” She inclined her head. “Dinner is reasonable. As you say, I should use my time as efficiently as possible and I do need to eat.” Disengaging their hands, she wrapped her arms around him. “In fact, since I haven’t yet received my next assignment, this seems the perfect time for us to go and give Blinky instructions.”

Before he could reply, she Side-Along-Apparated them with a crack. When they appeared in Malfoy Manor seconds later, Lucius had his hands in her hair and a moment later it was loosened, her curls cascading over her shoulders and down her back as he pulled it free from its bindings.

Reaching up, she returned the favour, tugging free the ribbon that had been confining his hair and tossing it aside, sliding the silky, blond strands between her fingers.

This time she initiated the kiss, arching against him, fingers threading through his hair as she pressed close. He slid his leg between hers and she moaned into his mouth.

“Master wants dinner?” a squeaky voice asked.

They separated and Hermione took a moment to catch her breath. “Actually, Blinky, we would like hors d'oeuvres served in the master bedroom in about ninety minutes.”

The elf didn’t hesitate, it simply nodded and disappeared.

“Should I be worried that my wards and my elf obey you without question?” Lucius asked, clearly amused.

She smiled. “As will you,” she purred, clasping his hand and pulling him up the stairs. And as she later demonstrated to Lucius the benefits inherent in obeying her, Hermione briefly spared a thought to where she had come from, which had everything to do with where she had ended up.

~


End file.
